Grand Theft Auto 5: Waltz of the Outcast
by Dylawa
Summary: Trevor, Michael and Franklin all thought that their troubles were over after dealing with some unwanted "friendlies." But when Trevor discovers an inhumane cult that uses children to commit their crimes, he will do whatever it takes to protect their best criminal, and discover some things about her- and himself- along the way. M for language, violence, masturbation and Trevor.
1. Chapter 1: Loss

_Well, hey, I guess._

_This is a thing I've been thinking about for a while now. Heck, I even have a soundtrack to go with it. I'll list the songs and their starting points if you want to experiment with my choices. Can't guarantee you'll be able to find all of them though_

_First Fanfic. yyaaaaaayyyy..._

This is based on Grand Theft Auto 5. This all takes place after the game, and if you pick ending C. It's a violent game. This is a violent story. Blood. Guts. Guns. Weird sex. Language. Don't like. Don't read. Go read My Little Pony if it hurts your butt.

_Here... let the waltz begin._

* * *

Trevor Phillips gave an unsatisfactory huff as he watched the sun set from his rich friend's balcony. _Not much of a view with all this smog and shit_, he thought. Still, it was better than the view from his trailer at the other end of Los Santos, at the bottom of a desert valley. There, he couldn't see the rays from the sun as it descended behind the skyscrapers, or the ocean, and cause the objects to gleam with an unearthly aura. The sky didn't give a vivid pink hue ether; at home, the sky turned dark blue, almost like the bottom of a lake that hadn't been disturbed in centuries.

But then again, Trevor paid no mind to such things. He was a man of action, violence, no thought. All he wanted was what he wanted. And if he didn't have it, he'd go get it. No matter the cost. Hell, he'd stolen a nuke once, but he didn't end up doing anything with it, which pissed him off. Things that would touch a normal person would whiz past him like a Frisbee. Not his problem, not his game.

He stepped back into the house, rolling his shoulders, wincing at the popping sounds they made. Michael De Santa, the owner of the house and somewhat Trevor's mentor (though he'd never admit it) , brought up _his_ friend, Franklin Clinton, and some cans of booze.

"Man dawg," Franklin sighed, "I'd never thought I'd be so happy to drink beer from a can."

"Well, you get what you can when your friend's a cheapskate," Trevor muttered, eyeing Michael.

"Hey, if you don't like the booze, go buy your own can you lazy shithead," the millionaire countered. "I don't have to do jack for you. I invite you here because I'm _nice_."

"_I invite you here 'cuz I'm NICE_. Mikey, I had no idea you were _nice_," Trevor chanted. "I always thought you were a lying, backstabbing c*nt who can't see straight out of his retirement cash!"

"Man, fuck you," Michael grunted.

The other grinned maniacally. "Gladly!" he exclaimed, and motioned to undo his belt.

Franklin intervened first. "Awe, come on dawg, don' pull dat shit! Fuck, ya ever heard of sarcasm?"

Trevor chuckled, sipping from his can. "Sure have. Just have a trouble understanding the difference. Mommy never taught me sarcasm... had to learn from when my dad said, "I'll be back," then left me in the mall to ROT!"

"See, that's just a flat out lie", Micheal explained. "There's no sarcasm there at all! You STILL don't get the difference, after forty years of your life?"

He shrugged. "Guess not. Don't really care either, ya know? Because being branded as a psychopath has its advantages. Like, for example, this." He motioned to Michael. "I can be honest, and you'll just accept it, because that's how I am, right?"

He motioned to speak, but was cut off by the doorbell, and the call of Michael's wife. "IT'S LESTER, DO I LET HIM IN?"

"TELL HIM WE'RE UPSTAIRS," Michael yelled back. He flopped back on his bed, his can empty enough that it wouldn't spill. Franklin sat next to him, but Trevor remained standing. Soon enough, the crippled techie behind all of the trio's greatest heists came limping into the room, and tumbled backwards into a chair after careful calculation. He tossed a briefcase to Franklin and said:

"There it is, the hundred grand from the last heist. I never would have thought to give it to me for safekeeping though: it's not like I'm IMMUNE to the LSPD."

"Well, Lesty-loo, we aren't immune either, but YOU aren't on the radar like we are. How 'bout you pull your head out of your ass?" Trevor retorted while scratching his balding head.

"Sure thing, T." The tech man had grown used to Trevor's threats over the years; the trick was to know how to react, unless you wanted your balls chopped off, or worse. "Do you guys want to plan another one right now, or lay low for a little longer?"

"More!"

"I think we're set for a bit, yo."

"Nah, I got a film I gotta work on."

The three had spoken at the same time, but only one had a look of disbelief. "Whoa, wait... did I hear what I think I heard?"

The room was silent.

"... NO? Is that what I heard, Mikey? Franklin, my niggah? NO?"

"Yeah, T, that's exactly what you heard," the millionaire retorted. "Some of us have lives outside of this whole gig we ha-"

"Oh, a GIG!" the other exclaimed. "A GIG. That's funny, ya know? 'Cuz I thought THIS was a way of life! This is MY way of life, at least. This? THIS GIG, is an outlet! If I lead a normal life like you two fat FUCKS, I don't know how long I'd last! Doing the same thing over and over, expecting something to change? Now THAT, my friends, is PURE INSANITY!"

Franklin stood uneasily. "T, come on man-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Trevor screamed. "Just because you three want something else, something even REMOTELY NORMAL, that doesn't mean I HAVE SOMETHING REMOTELY NORMAL TOO! I run an illegal WEAPONS INDUSTRY! I SMOKE CRACK! I BEAT ON PEOPLE JUST FOR FUCKING FUN! THIS IS THE ONLY NORMAL I HAVE! And neither of you want me to be a part of your NORMAL! You just keep me around, because I'm the guy who isn't afraid to get shit on his hands! Well, FUCK YOU TOO!"

He panted heavily, his tirade over. Eyes were popping out of heads, not prepared for what should have been an obvious outburst. This was Trevor. Trevor was not a normal man. He had not lived a normal life, and he hated it. He knew it was different, he couldn't deny it, but even though outwardly he embraced it, secretly, he wanted something more... he simply didn't know how to get it. Trevor was not happy. He shook his head, muttered an apology, took his twenty-five grand, and left.

* * *

"He's leaving the house now, mistress."

"Does he have the money?"

"Tight in his greasy little hand. How should we approach this?"

"Swiftly. Don't give him time to react. Go right in if you have to."

"Yes mistress. Helly out."

* * *

"Fuck," Trevor growled. "T, you always gotta be the one to make the outburst, huh? Stupid, stupid fuck...". He reached for his keys, but stopped short when he saw a girl that couldn't be more than thirteen run towards him. She was in tears. "Help!" she cried. "Help! Help!"

His arms swung limply at his side. He was astonished someone would come to him for help. Much less a little girl. He got to his knees and said, "What's the deal kid? You lost or something?" She nodded. "Well," he continued, "Do you live far from here? Where are your folks at? Were you with them?"

The girl chattered on about her condition. Trevor listened patiently, but paid close attention to the sounds he heard behind him. _You think you're so sneaky? think again, bastard_. When he felt someone's presence behind his back, he turned swiftly and uppercut-ted them in the jaw. To his shock, the offender was hardly older than the girl he was already talking to. In his distraction, the other girl snatched the money from his hand and bolted.

(cue "Robot Rock" by Daft Punk, if you want...)

"Hey! You- FUCK- get back here with my goddamn money!"

The girl squealed as she rounded the corner, but was abruptly cut off when she was hit by an oncoming car. The driver hopped out- another girl, in her late teens- snatched the money herself, and drove off again, leaving the other two girls behind.

"The FUCK?!" Trevor screamed as his truck roared to life and entered in hot pursuit.

Traffic was heavy at this time of day, but that didn't slow the female driver or Trevor. He could never get closer, but he was never getting farther either. For someone so young, he had to admit she had talent for weaving in and out of lanes, narrowly missing cars left and right. Her turns were also unusually graceful, rounding corners like a dog leans to strafe in between trees. It was his best effort to not lose sight of her.

Cars honked loudly at the rude and dangerous interruption to their daily routine. Trevor honked back, yelling occasionally that some people "didn't know how to drive," and that he was going to "put them in their place." He obviously meant more than this, but what would he say? "I'm going to kill this fuck?" He could say that, but he's not in that kind of mood. Yet.

"C'mere, you fuck!" he hissed. "I earned that fair and square! What did YOU do?! Leave your friends to die!? How low ARE YOU!?"

She was low enough that, when faced with the option to attempt a jump or crash, due to an unusually heavy intersection, she took the jump. And crashed. The girl tumbled from the windshield, crying out when her leg was painfully twisted and contorted in ways no leg should be. Trevor pulled in front of her, raising his gun. "Give it up, kid!" he called. "Give me the money, and I won't make you suffer."

Her sneer was undeniable; she had another trick up her sleeve. Literally. She produced a small pistol, quick as lighting, and shot in his direction. When he crouched to dodge the bullet, she took her chance and jumped off of the neighboring ledge, onto a moving train.

"FUCK!" Trevor screamed again. Without a second thought, he jumped onto the train as well, and continued his pursuit.

The girl turned quickly, aware of her danger. She sneered again, and in a loud, low voice, taunted him. "You don't know when to quit, do you old man?"

"Neither do you," Trevor roared.

The two shot simultaneously. Her bullet grazed his hip, while Trevor was a little more accurate, piercing her leg. She yelped in agony, collapsing to her knees. He made his way towards her, knowing his prize was near, his bloodcurdling stare enough to freeze anyone's in their tracks. But whoever this teen was, she must have been raised on nothing but cruelty. His stare didn't faze her in the least, and she shot again. In his surprise, Trevor slipped, almost toppling off of the edge of the train.

Perhaps it was for the best. They entered a tunnel shortly after, and, had he been standing, he certainly would have been faced with a rock and a hard place. His fingers ached from the little grip that he had, and he could hear the girl laughing at him from above. Faintly, he heard her shout, "You seem to be in a tight situation, old man!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he replied.

When the tunnel finally opened up, he pulled himself up and gazed at the girl as she crawled away from him, towards the back of the train.

"Oh, no you don't!" Trevor muttered.

He ran after her, taking no note of the dangerous situation he was putting them both in. His left foot stomped along in her blood, leaving his footprints as he tramped to end this girl who had caused him so much trouble- and who was still shooting at him, in a last feeble effort of self defense. It was no use; Trevor yanked her up by her shirt and socked her in the face. Blood gushed from her now swollen mouth, but she retaliated with a knee to the gut and a half- hearted headbutt.

"Don't think I'm ready to give up so easy, you c*nt!"

"You seem to be pretty tired out, kid. Want daddy to put you down for a nappy?"

"Fuck off old man!"

"No, FUCK YOU!"

Trevor ran to this girl, but she easily sidestepped him and took out his knees. While he was down, she straddled him and focused all of her energy into ruining his already fucked up mug. He didn't stay down long, and when he got back up, the flame was back in his eyes. "You aren't very nice! Someone needs to teach you a lesson!" With that statement, he yanked her into his arms and began to strangle her. It wasn't his best effort, due to her unnatural strength and being on a moving train, but it was enough to cut off her wind.

She struggled with all her might, but she was an equal match to this crazy old fuck who couldn't care less if she lived or died. In desperation, she chomped down on his hand- hard- drawing blood, bacteria and whatever else Trevor had in his system. He roared in anger and struck her away, clenching his hand tightly.

"You're tough," the girl commented. "Tougher than anyone I've ever dealt with. Even for an old creep!"

"I don't know whether to be offended or flattered!"

"Flattered, duh!"

"It's hard to be when some little punk is trying to make off with MY hard earned money!"

"It's gonna be MY hard earned money after this! Hell, I'm not even gonna get it! This isn't for me! If I HAD a choice, I'd give this back to you right now!"

"WHAT-"

"But I don't!" she continued. She pointed to the money. "This? This is life or death, mate! Survival of the fittest! So, thanks for nothing, while I get nothing, go home to nothing and wake up to nothing!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Trevor cried, rushing at her again.

The fighting continued in this manner for quite some time, until a truck pulled up to the train. There where more kids inside of it, motioning to their "friend" on the train.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Trevor commanded. "I'LL FIND YOU AND KILL YOU!"

"GOOD LUCK!" The girl screamed back. "There's at least a hundred of us, you idiot!"

"I've handled more dicks than that!" In his mind though, he was shocked. _Hundred kids? In the CRIME business? Where the hell are their parents?!_

"Wave, come on!" one girl cried.

"STAY RIGHT FUCKING THERE KID!"

"DRIVE CLOSER!"

"C'MERE YOU FUCK!"

"WAVE!"

In the shock and confusion, "Wave" leaped off of the wrong side of the train, into the woods and mountains, becoming lost among the brush to all who watched.

"FUCK, MY MONEY!" Trevor moaned.

"Wave's kicked the bucket!" one girl said. "We gotta report to Mistress Beverly!"

"What about th-"

"The cash is gone! Fucking bail!"

Trevor jumped from the train himself as the truck of kids zoomed off, back in the direction of Los Santos. He kicked the dirt and screamed, enraged at the pointless loss.

"My... FUCKING... cash..."

He yanked at his hair, tore his shirt and punched himself until all of his anger and energy had been spent. Then, he pulled out his phone, and made a call.

"Trevor Phillips Indu-"

"RON!"

"Wha- T-trevor! Wh-what's-"

"Shut the fuck up and come and get me you fag! Arggh!"

(end "Robot Rock")

* * *

_She crashes through the brush._

_The patter of her feet_

_are heard only by_

_the creatures she meets._

_An unmistakable lift in her step_

_that wreaks of death_

_and blood._

_She's engulfed by the night,_

_and the pain in her heart._

_FAILURE, the voices cry._

_Disgusted, the trees part_

_to make way for_

_the Outcast._

_END CHAPTER 1._

* * *

_More? Yes? No?_

_Personally, it's turning out better than I thought it would._

_Ironically, I've never even touched the game, to my humor and sadness._

_Thank you YouTube._


	2. Chapter 2: Gain

_Really? Three reviews in less than eighteen hours! I honestly didn't think I was THAT good..._

_I think I'll try to upload a part every day. This fanfic will have maybe twenty five to thirty chapters. I won't be able to upload tomorrow though. I get to go see a psychologist! Yay! Guess it makes sense..._

_But yeah, I read the reviews, and I'm definitely going to take your advice in mind. As for the one who said "Trevor doesn't seem like the one to be bested by a thirteen year old girl."... kids can be pretty sneaky and cruel. Just ask me._

_QUICK RECAP:_

_Trevor has just had his money stolen by a treacherous seventeen year old bitch, whom we last saw tumbling into the woods behind Mount Chilliad. Right now, he's pulling up to his trailer after a long ride home..._

* * *

"I don't know, T, I-I just don't see how it's possible. A... a _kid?"_

"I swear I wasn't on drugs, Ron," Trevor growled. "These kids come out of fucking nowhere, jump me, and take all of my pay from the heist! And that's not the worst part! The worst part is that she left her buddies to die! She couldn't give two fucks! It... GAH! It reminds me so much of... of..."

"Michael?" Ron butted in.

"MICHAEL! YES, THAT'S IT!" He exclaimed. "A TREACHEROUS, BACKSTABBING PUNK WHO ONLY CARES ABOUT HER OWN SCRAWNY ASS!"

"Uh... her?"

"Yeah, _her! _Because A, I was referring to the kid, and B, Michael is nothing more than the shell of a luscious, dripping _pussy _of a supermodel who let herself go!"

Trevor punched the door in fury, forgetting the sore teeth marks from the teenager's bite. He couldn't see it in the dim light, but he had reopened the wound. The moonlight was not enough, and the faint light from streetlamps were too quick to make a full inspection.

"I'm sorry, Trevor," Ron continued," but I don't see why you still hang out with Michael if you hate him so much. If you don't like him, why don't you just-"

"Pull the plug on him? Nah, I'd never do that, I've known him for too long, Ron. And although there are times I'd _LOVE _to slit his throat, it's more satisfying to watch him slowly waste away as he sits on his ass all day, yelling at his camera crew and sulking over times past. You see, Ron- Mikey is a pile of shit, and I'm a fly. He feeds me entertainment, and... well, he's just a pile of shit. Not much you can do about that..."

He waved his watch in Ron's face, causing him to swerve.

"... but _wait_."

* * *

_The sand is cold_

_through her shoes._

_She feels old_

_from the running she does._

_Never ending._

_Never slowing._

_No mercy._

_Slowly dying._

_Collapsing in the glow of the moon,_

_the place in which she lies_

_will save her soon._

_So close,_

_so cold,_

_But your savior is near._

_So close._

_So cold._

_Nothing to fear._

* * *

The truck pulled steadily into the driveway, creating an aura of false security to the area. But once Trevor stepped out, the threatening air returned once again, thick like a fog. Ron followed shortly after, limping slightly. He went into the trailer and came back out with a medical kit, which Trevor snatched from him.

"Never a worse day to come home late," Trevor sniffed. "There's a fire somewhere. Get in the house, Ron. You can stroke me while I-"

He stopped short, looking back out from the porch. Ron looked where he was, but couldn't see anything. He looked back at Trevor, then to the gate. Nothing. "...T?"

The other didn't reply. Briskly leaving the porch, Trevor jogged to the ditch in front of the house and gazed down with wonder. "Well, fuck me," he muttered. "Ron, c'mere!"

Ron came as quickly as he could, joining Trevor in his awe. For there, in the ditch, was "Wave," passed out from her loss of blood. Her leg looked awful, from the combination of it being broken and with a bullet in it.

"I thought you were dead," Trevor sneered, nudging the unconscious girl with his foot. He knelt down and began to search her for his money.

"Uh... wa-wait," Ron stammered. "Th-this was one of the girls!?"

"Their leader, I assume," was the curt reply.

"Why, sh-she's so young! When you said kids, I didn't actually think-"

"Shut up, Ron."

"Yep, sure... ok."

After another ten seconds of silence, T laughed, grinning widely. "Couldn't find a way to make off with it in time, could ya? Serves you right, you... you prick." He pulled the cash from her back pocket, thumbing through the bills lovingly.

"You got it back!" Ron exclaimed. "I would have thought someone so selfish like her would have gone all out straightaway! The only reason for her not to would be..."

(optional soundtrack: "Imaginary friend" from Beyond: Two Souls)

Ron continued to ramble, but Trevor stopped listening. Although he was happy to have his money back, he could see "Wave" in his peripheral vision, slowly dying. He brushed her aside at first, but she continued to creep into his vision and thoughts. The look of obvious pain was the worst. Something knotted in his gut for an inexplicable reason; it was a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He couldn't even remember the name for it, but it was there. And it was horrible. Why now? What is this shit?

"... so, maybe, she was waiting for her friends to-"

"Let's go inside, Ron."

"Are you sure? You know, she's still alive, she could-"

"I SAID LET'S FUCKING GO INSIDE!" Trevor roared.

"Y-yeah, ok, right, of course..."

The conspiracy theorist wasted no time, but Trevor took his. The farther he went away, the more the feeling grew. It was almost painful, and he moaned. "I'm gonna be sick," he murmured. He glanced back at the girl, and was. It took him five minutes to come back to his senses. He felt slightly better after, but not much. Ron glanced anxiously from the door, concerned for his friend.

Trevor started shaking, as strange memories began to resurface. Things he had stomached for years, bubbling to the surface in a painful, chronological parade. His father abandoning him, his detachment from other children, his mother's scornful stare...

This feeling was the weak man's fight. Trevor could handle this. This was nothing. He was just tired was all. Maybe a little sick. It must have been something he ate, because Trevor Phillips did not feel this way. never ever ever...

_"You never wrote to me... You never visited... I bet you never even found a girl!"_

He cried out, collapsing to his knees.

"Trevor?!"

"... Fuck."

* * *

Trevor nearly flew into the house, the ailing teen moaning in his arms.

"Trevor?!" Ron cried. "What is-"

"Get the medical kit."

"What!?"

"GET THE FUCKING TOOLS YOU IGNORANT FUCK!"

Ron rushed to and fro, scared and confused. Trevor, after removing his shirt as a sort of barrier from the blood, laid the girl on the floor, ripping her jeans so he could get at her leg.

"Damn, this is fucked," he grumbled. Ron handed him the antiseptic first, knowing this process well. Trevor had learned to take care of himself after a few nasty burns and cuts in Air Force school, and had shown Ron how it was done.

First, he took a clean, wet cloth, poured some of the ointment on it, and gently cleansed her leg. She winced slightly in her sleep, but made no other movement.

"She's lost a lot of fucking blood. Stupid, stupid..."

Once the dried blood was gone, he could clearly see the wound. It wasn't as deep as he had thought, but enough to cause concern. Luckily, he could see the bullet lodged in her bone, and, after a few unsuccessful attempts, removed the foreign object with thick tweezers. Once that was over, he cleaned the wound again while Ron prepared the stitches.

"She crashed her car," Trevor explained. "Broke her leg. Then I got lucky on the train and got in a shot."

"But.. but why... _this?_"

"Because SHUT UP RON! That's why!... Fuck, let me figure it out and I'll tell you. Just... fuck."

He took the needle from Ron and quickly closed the gaping hole, easing the blood flow slightly. Had he taken any longer, she would have lost too much. He then set her broken leg with a broken hockey stick he had lying around, wrapping the two together tightly, and with thick gauze.

"Help me carry her to the bed."

"_Your_ bed?"

"... Do you see any other fucking beds in this house?!"

"No, no! I just-"

"Then come on!"

The two men gently carried her across the trailer, careful not to upset her wounds, and set her on the hard mattress. Trevor ran his hand through his hair, obviously conflicted. Ron gently laid his hand on his shoulder.

"...T?"

Trevor brushed him away, pounding pointlessly at the air. "What am I doing Ron? What am I FUCKING DOING!? WHY AM I HELPING THIS LITTLE PRICK!? WHY?! WHY?!"

"I-I don't know, I was just in here, wa-waiting for you, and then you came in wi-with-"

"Rhetorical, Ron. That wasn't meant to be answered... DON'T ANSWER ME WHEN I DON'T WANT YOU TO ANSWER ME!"

"Y-YES, OF COURSE... My apologies."

They both gazed at their victim again, unsure of what to say or do. She was just... _there_. Her black hair cascading down her pale face. Blue eyes fluttering occasionally, accenting the blood from her lips. _There_. And what to do with her? What would happen when she woke up? How could they let her go now that she new where they lived?

_The fuck were you thinking. T? _Trevor berated himself, finally realizing the strong emotion that had overcome him.

Guilt?

(end song. should be about done anyways...)

* * *

"T, what's up?"

"Mikey, I got jumped by a bunch of kids- _literally _kids- they stole my cash, then I found it again on a girl I got in a tussle with, and then I felt bad- ME! Of all people to feel bad!- and I patched her up and now she's unconscious in MY BED!"

"... Uh, come again?"

"I mean, I don't know what to _do!_ I've never had to really interact with kids before- 'cept for yours, I guess- but that doesn't matter! What does matter, is that I think something very sketchy is behind all this fucking nonsense!"

"Trevor! Slow down!"

"_Kids? Stealing from grown men!? _It doesn't make sense, I'm telling you-"

"T, you gotta lay off the weed, man-"

"FUCK WEED! THIS IS REAL, SERIOUS SHIT! FINE MICHAEL, DON'T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY! YOUR LOSS WHEN THE GIRL SCOUTS START FUCKING YOUR WIFE TOO!"

He hung up, angrily pounding his counter, and took another swig of his whisky. Ron had gone back home for the night, and the sun was starting to rise. He should have gone to bed, but Trevor was still fuming over his decision.

_Why'd you do it? Why? WHY!? ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED!?_

He smashed the bottle on the wall and yelled.

"Wave"woke up.

_END CHAPTER TWO._

* * *

_I have a headache now, and it's dinnertime. So... yeah._

_Do YOU see why I need to see a psychologist? I don't._

_Next chapter, we get another chase, but don't worry; it will be that last one for a while. Two chapters after that, a legit gunfight._

_Cool beans._


	3. Chapter 3: Run

_This is too damn addicting. I don't feel 100% though, so I'm typing this one on my phone. If things look funky, that's why._

_Also, I've decided to try something different. Rather than say straight up right where the song starts what song it is (dat grammar tho), I'll list them at the beginning, and include symbols to cue you in on when to start them._

_For this chapter, the song is "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the people. Pay attention for this: *_

_I have no idea what it means. But that's the cue. ima go lie down now._

* * *

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Trevor hissed through his teeth. He was angry at himself for letting his confusion get the best of him. More than that, he was angry for having thought of the idea of letting the kid stay in his trailer in the first place. What kind of moron does that? _Well, this kid just stole from me. Better patch them up and give them a place to stay. Idiot. _

A sound from behind him distracted Trevor from his thoughts. He turned quickly, and saw Wave, hunched due to her bad leg and with an intent to kill in her eyes. She also had a gun.

"... who are you?"

Now, T's first thought, of course, was to pull out his own gun and start a shouting match. But, rather than react foolishly, Trevor raised his hands above his head as sign of no malicious intent. "My name's Trevor, sweetheart."

Wave was taken off guard by his calmness, but shook it off quickly. "Where are we?"

"Can't tell you that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Don't want you calling your buddies now, do we?"

"What buddies?" the girl asked ininnocently.

"Your buddies that you left behind as dead meat," he growled.

She took a step forward, obviously offended by the remark, and winced when she stepped on her bad leg. When she saw that she was patched up, rage filled her eyes.

"... you did this, you FUCK!"

"I know," he said. "That's the first of many things I would like to apologize for." His voice was level and quiet for once. "I'm also sorry I called you a prick in your sleep and ruined your jeans."

She looked down again, not having noticed that the first time.

"What the FUCK did you do to me?!" she exclaimed

"I didn't do shit to you, kid," he began. "All I did was patch you up, like any normal human being would. I wouldn't stoop so low as to let a kid die... unlike _you_."

"Helly got in the way," she countered. "There was nothing I could do! Hell, time and time again, we've told her to watch for cars, but the dumb bitch wouldn't li-"

"DON'T CALL HER A BITCH!" Trevor yelled. "NEVER!"

Wave cringed at the volume in his voice. She wasn't used to hearing a male voice, that low, simmering burn. It was grating on her ears.

"She was just a kid!" Trevor continued. "I may be a pretty heartless fucker, but NO kid deserves a fate like THAT!"

"There are worse things for us than being hit!" she cried.

"Like WHAT?!"

Wave raised her gun, trembling. "For us..."

Trevor reached for his own gun. *

"... LIVING!" She fired blindly, revenge driving her actions. Trevor dove behind his counter, narrowly avoiding the shower of bullets. Immediately, there were shouts next door, calling for Trevor. Said man lunged for the kid, but she burst out the front door before he could even touch her.

"RON!" Trevor barked. "WADE! DON'T LET HER GET AWAY! AFTER HER NOW!"

He himself bolted out of the door, just in time to see Wave knock an unsuspecting man off of his fourwheeler and speed off with the new prize. Trevor shot after her, but she was too quick. Wade and Ron waddled from the neighboring trailer, gawking at the sight.

"THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! GET IN THE FUCKING TRUCK! WATCH HER!"

* * *

Wave punched the gas pedal as hard as her sore muscles would allow, gaining a comfortable distance from the crazy old man. The uneven terrain wasn't doing her any favors either, jostling her to and fro.

The psychopath wasn't far behind, and he was gaining every second. He had two other bizarre men with him, both looking slightly nervous. _Time for some evasive maneuvers_, she thought.

First, she tried to throw them off by making random turns throughout the neighborhood. It put the distance back between them, but she couldn't shake them. Plan B was to make a U turn right in front of them. It would be an obvious move, but it could give her enough time to hide. _Try that next._

* * *

"Trevor, why are we chashing that little girl?" Wade asked. "What'd she do to you? Doesh she have shomething of yoursh?"

"Wade," Ron replied, "it'd be best if you didn't ask... I don't think Trevor likes to talk about it."

"Damn right I don't! This little idiot is more trouble than she's worth!"

Suddenly, Wave braked as hard as she could, turning into a powerslide and speeding past and behind the truck of men.

"Fuck me," Trevor moaned, yanking the wheel hard and threatening to send his vehicle tumbling. Ron and Wade cried out, each one nearly toppling out of the truck themselves.

"Shoot out her tires!" he commanded. "If she's as good as a driver I think she is, she won't wreck, and we'll be able to catch her."

"Sure thing, Trevor!" Ron exclaimed

"Uh, I wash told not to play wish gunsh," Wade explained.

"We aren't playing; this is the real deal!"

* * *

Wave turned onto the road that went around the circumference of the lake, pushing the fourwheeler to its limit. _I wo__n't let them catch me. Never. I'll die before then. Chances are I will anyways. I'm fucked no matter where I go at this point; Mistress will have me hunted if I show my face again, this fucker wants my head too, and I don't have family to go home to._

A sick feeling rose in her gut at the thought, but she pushed it down quickly. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. That psychopath was gaining again, and she didn't have a plan C. At least, not a good one. Especially not with the condition of her leg._  
_

Then again, she was running out of options. Well... it was worth a try.

* * *

"Easy, Trevor! I can't get a good aim!"

"I'm not about to lose this kid, and then have her army showing up at my fucking door! Don't shoot her though! Just the tires!"

"Why!?"

"Because I haven't had a chance to interrogate her yet and see what her deal is! If there are more kids like her, we need to find them and get them where they belong: in the hands of a good family!"

Wade looked at Trevor and smiled. "Gee, Trevor! I didn't know you liked kidsh that mush!"

"I don't. I fucking HATE kids! But, what I hate more than that is a child in the wrong hands!"

As soon as he had finished speaking, Wave made a random turn and began driving off-road, bumping up and down, but never slowing.

"Is she fucking crazy?!" Trevor turned after her, shaking his head in disbelief.

* * *

_Well, that didn't work. He followed me anyways. Fuck. Well, there goes all of my strategies._

She gritted her teeth at the burning pain in her leg and gut from the constant assault. Running was steadily becoming pointless and inconvenient in comparison to the possible death that awaited her.

To her right was a thick pack of trees, like a small wood. And now, to her left, was that balding creep and his buddies. A look of horror crossed her face as one raised a sniper rifle.

_He really DOES want to kill me!_

In a fit of fear and self defense, she turned sharply into the truck, denting the side and frightening everyone in it. Unfortunately, this put her right in the path of a sharp cactus. Her right wheel ran right over it, popping and shredding the rubber and causing her to drive straight into the trees.

* * *

"Hahahaha!" Trevor shrieked. "We've got her now, boys!"

When he said this, he was certain she would go head first into the trees. What he forgot though, was that Wave was an excellent driver, and neatly maneuvered around the obstacles. It wasn't long before she vanished among the wood, the sound of the vehicle growing faint.

"Ohh, FUCK! WHY'D I HAVE TO FORGET THAT?!"

"Forget what, Trevor?!"

"Fuck it, we'll go around!"

* * *

Wave WAS good, but she didn't have lightning reflexes. It took her only a minute to topple the fourwheeler, and, due to her leg, she didn't have the strength to tip it back over. She began to limp as quick as she could, panting and whimpering.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's going to get you, Wave. That crazy fuck's going to get you. Run, damnit, run!_

She tripped and tumbled, leaves clinging to her hair and shirt. Stopping occasionally to readjust her bandages, she could faintly hear the truck driving away.

_Hah... lost the bastards. Thank God._

At last, she could slow her pace to a relaxed walk, but she didn't want to take any chances when she made it back to the road. So, just before she left, she looked right. Then left. Right again. Then, cautiously, she reentered the sunlight.

The road _seemed _dead..., at least, there weren't any hillbilly red trucks around. She took another step, now concealed behind a thick brush. Yes. He was definitely gone. She laughed to herself. _I really am the best criminal there is. A fucked up leg, and still they didn't catch me. Score one for the outcast, zero for... uh... his name was... Trevor. Score zero for Trevor... why was I even there, anyways?__  
_

The next events seemed to occur in slow motion. The truck flew from nowhere, circling donuts around her and trapping her. Trevor hopped out as Ron took the wheel, sneering and staring daggers.

"Do you know how much gas costs today you little prick?"

"Fuck you, Trevor!"

"I remember one guy who said that to me! He's a rotting corpse now!"

Wave yanked her gun from her pocket, but Trevor was too quick this time. He pulled out a little weapon of his own: a rag with chloroform on it. He slapped the gun out of her hand and smothered her with the rag. When he was sure he had given her enough, he pushed her to the ground, laughing as she feebly tried to crawl away.

"You chose the wrong motherfucker to mess with, "Wave"."

She reached for her gun, but the weight on her eyelids became too much. She closed them, and lost consciousness.

* * *

_I know how you feel._

_ He is heartless and cruel._

_I know how you feel._

_Drowning in your own pool_

_of saliva. _

_Have you no control?_

_I know how you feel._

_Dear little one,_

_I know how you feel._

_Your fighting is done._

_I know what this means._

_END CHAPTER 3._

* * *

_Yay! It's harder than it looks to make sure the writing and optional music mostly fit together, but I like how this one turned out._

_Do you see any similarities between the two psychos yet?_

_Maybe their uncanny determination?_

_Hmm..._


	4. Chapter 4: Casablanca

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Norah" from Beyond: Two Souls. Here's the cue: #_

_Don't have much else to say. Oh wait, since I'm typing this on my phone, there may be awkward spacing between some words. I'm too lazy to fix them, so..._

* * *

The only sound in the room was the steady breathing of the unconscious teenager. As for Trevor, he sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for her to wake up. Wade could be heard faintly humming in the next room, along with the sound of dishes and silverware. This wasn't normal. Not that Wade never hummed, but that Trevor was actually _waiting_. Everyone knew that Trevor didn't wait. He did. He does things. No waiting required.

But something about Wave have caught his attention. She was_wierd. _She was violent, snide and completely heartless. She cared about no one but herself. She was rash.

She was the Devil.

That's what he saw in her the night she lay near death in his ditch. That's what aroused his guilt to come to light. She was a personification for him to see. An example to himself. If Trevor believed in a god, this would be a sign from them.

He hated it. He hated Wave, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of her.

Why? After all the trouble she caused, why?

Maybe it was because she wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Maybe it was that he harbored something deep in the blackest corner of his heart for this teen that reminded him so much of himself.

Or maybe he just wanted to kill her later, when she was at her most innocent phase. He had the sort of atattachment to her as a human to a dog. In other words, he pittied her. She was so much like him, it was impossible NOT to somewhat understand her. He knew how she felt.

She stirred slightly. The motion angered him, and he made sure she knew.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

He slugged her in her good leg, still eliciting a moan from her.

"Wake up! I've been thinking while you were out, and I hate it! GET THE FUCK UP SO I DON'T HAVE TO THINK!"

Wave groaned again, obviously not remembering her current situation. But, when she did open her eyes, she shot up, thrashing out at everything. She was handcuffed to the bed.

"Let me go, you rude fuck!" she yelled.

"NO!" He punched her again, and she spat in his eye. They couldn't go more than a few seconds without trying to kill each other. That's when they finally realized that they were at a stalemate; neither one could get the upper hand. Trevor leaned back, the thought soothing him.

_Neither of us win... better than her winning, I guess._

Wave wasn't so convinced. She tugged relentlessly at her chains, causing blisters and sores to form. She spat profanities at him, trying to get a rise out of him. Soon, she realized neither one was earning her a reaction, so she relaxed, and huffed.

Trevor raised a scarred eyebrow. "... You done yet?"

Wave stuck out her tounge.

"Good. I guess we can get to the questioning."

"I won't answer a thing you have to ask me."

"We'll see," T chuckled. From under the bed, he produced a tazer, courtesy of some of his crazier friends. At the sight of this, Wave broke down, screaming bloody murder and backing away as far as the handcuffs would allow.

"NO! NOT THAT! THE ELECTRICI- THE TINGLE- FUCKING JESUS CHRIST, ANYTHING BUT THAT- TREVOR-"

"CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" He threw the tool across the room, out of his reach. Wave calmed down immediately, chest still heaving. "The fuck was that?!"

"I'll answer anything, I swear, just don't use those things on me! Please-"

"Kid, I get it! Fuck..." He scooted closer to her, ignoring her obvious discomfort. There was another brief second of awkward silence before he spoke. "Alright kid. What's your name?"

"... Waverly."

"Your FULL name."

"Waverly. I'm an orphan."

"No parents? Don't remember your last name?"

"Never knew them. Don't have a last name as far as I know..."

"What's the first thing you remember?"

"Los Santos beach. It was a rainy day, about five years ago. I had a gun pointed to my head."

"By who?"

"Beverley Danes."

"Never heard of her."

"She's my boss."

"Your _boss?_"

"Leader of the Little Cubs gang."

"... Doesn't ring a bell."

"She doesn't like to be known."

"Then why are you disclosing "company" secrets"?"

"You threatened to taze me."

"Who says I won't?"

"I will NOT BE SHOCKED!"

"WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING DEAL WITH ELECTRICITY?!"

"IT HURTS, YOU FUCK!"

Trevor stood, raising his hand as if to strike her. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! MOTHER FUCKER!"

"AAAARRGH!" His hand sailed through the wall, his knuckles popping as they came into contact with wood. He roared at her angrily.

"Stupid fuck, do you have any idea who I am and what I do?!"

"I couldn't give two fucks!"

"Ooh, you better start giving some, because I am about to rip your tits off and use them to jerk off!"

"Go ahead! I don't have a use for them anyways!"

Bewildered that none of his threats were having any effect, he yanked on his hair and screamed. Waverly laughed, and from the adjacent room, Wade started humming louder to try to block out the conflict.

It took ten minutes for everyone to calm down, and when they did, Trevor kicked the wall, and left the room. Waverly screamed.

"GET ME OUT I WANT TO GET OUT I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE I WANT TO GO BACK TO MISTRESS AND LET HER DO AS SHE WILL, EVEN IF IT MEANS I'M GOING TO DDIIEEEEEEE!"

She sobbed quietly after, drained of her energy.

* * *

The second time Trevor tried to talk to her went a little more smoothly. He found out more about the Little Cubs, three days after that.

"Everything we find of value goes to Mistress Beverley. She takes pride in bathing herself in riches and gold while we squander around in dirt and depression. We can't stand up to her. She has a corrupt section of the FIB watching her, in exchange for some of her goods. Kids who have tried disappear within a week. We can't go to our parents either, because any of us who actually want a way out don't HAVE parents."

"None of you have parents?"

"Those of us who stay. Some kids come and go for the thrill, and if a kid does really good, Mistress Beverley will pay them to come back. Those kids have homes to go to. We envy them so much... we've killed a few for fun."

"Those are some major abandonment issues you have there. It's not fair to their parents though... they love their "precious little angels"."

"What's one less kid to the world?"

"What's one less kid to the world!?"

"That's what Mistress says when some kids ask about their parents-"

"What's up with calling this chick "Mistress"?"

"She likes the attention. Feels better to her than Miss."

"Egomainiac."

"She used to be an actress. Used to be pretty. But she got addicted to 'shrooms. Ruined her looks and career, so she turned to crime. She could have made it big. I wonder what could have been if she had been more careful..."

"Where'd she find you kids?"

"Alot of us she finds as garbage babies or lost tots. Sometimes, she sees a kid she likes, and takes them. If the parents complain, she has them put down by our snipers."

"Fuck..."

"It doesn't matter, does it?!"

Trevor gazed at her, appalled. "Of course it fucking matters!"

"It must not. Because police will take a look into it for a little while, maybe two years. Then, poof. Nothing. No one cares. It's not just here, either. It happens all over the world. Because if the law gets their tight panties in a bunch over every single death, nothing wil get done. The death of one family is a minor casualty to the billions of idiots in the world."

Trevor was silent.

"Isn't that how it works, Trevor?"

"Unfortunately."

"If it matters so much to you, why do you kill, huh? What makes you so special?"

"Nothing. I kill with moderation is all."

"Killing with moderation is still killing, you hypocrite."

"Not only that, but I have good reason! It's an act of self defense! I'm just having a friendly little chat-"

"I don't think you know the definition of "friendly"..."

"Why don't you just call the police?"

"Stop changing the subject! What-"

"Hey, fuck you! I'M the one doing the interrogating here!"

"Well, to answer your question, the police can't do shit if she has all the bail money she'll ever need! Now tell me what YOU think friendly means!"

The conversation went downhill from there, ending with a harsh slap to Wave's face and a kick to Trevor's family jewels.

* * *

The third time Trevor interrogated Wave wasn't until a week later. He had talked to her, but hadn't really asked her about the Little Cubs. This time, he had Michael with him too.

"... But why tie her to your bed? Why not just lock her in there?"

Trevor snorted. "Tried that. It only took her about eight minutes to pick the lock."

"Well... I'm still not totally sure about this T..."

"You can ask her! She'll tell you everything I told you, and more if you're not careful."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"Just get in the fucking room, Mikey."

"Yeah, whatever."

As soon as he laid his eyes on the girl, Michael sized her up, and she did the same. Some sort of mutual understanding passed between the two that Trevor didn't realize straightaway. Neither of them wanted to be there. Michael sat at the edge of the bed, and she did her best to sit up.

"... Waverly?"

"And you are?"

"Michael. I'm a friend... well, I know Trevor. I have for a while. I'm not going to lie to you; he asked me to come and talk to you."

"He must think you have a way with kids."

"I don't. I do have two brats of my own though."

Wave raised an eyebrow. "Brats, Michael?"

"Yeah. All they do is sit on their asses all day, staring at whatever screen they can get their fucking hands on."

"And you don't try to fix this?"

"...Of course not. I have my own stuff to do, and they have theirs!"

"Then who are you to complain? You have no one to blame but yourself."

His mouth moved in protest, but no sound came out. She sat up, staring into his green eyes.

"Michael, you say your children are brats, but who's fault is that? You seem like a rich guy, from the clothes you're wearing... so, who's the one who spoiled them? Who gave them those screens? And why are you even complaining? There are families here in Los Santos who work day and night, and can afford only enough to pay bills and put bread on the table. They want to get their kids the latest gadgets and gizmos, but they can't afford it."

She reached out to him as far as the handcuffs would allow, an unmistakable anger boiling inside her.

"Not only that, but there are families who wish they still _had _their kids. An average of five children go missing every day, and at least one of them end up in our ragtag gang every month. What do you think those parents think? How often do you think they wish for one more day with their little baby? One last day to say, 'I love you'? Do they wish they had treated them better? Given them more love? Regardless of how their own children felt towards them? Much like your 'brats'?"_  
_

She leaned back, satisfied with Michael's thoughtful expression.#

"There will come a day where you WISH your little brats were still ignoring you."

Michael was silent for a while, but at last replied, "And I assume you wish for the same thing with your parents?"

"I wish I just knew who they were. I'd be completely satisfied. But, 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.'"

His eyes lit up with fervor. "Hey... That's _Gone with the Wind_!"

"1932."

"Yeah!"

Trevor snorted, startling the two. "Oh, come on, not this shit-"

"Do you know this one? 'Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"_Casablanca _!"

"Exactly! You watch old movies?!"

"... well... I read."

"Read?"

"It's one of the few luxuries we have. Books... Instructional... documentary... novelizations... I do watch movies when I can. I've seen two."

"What two?"

"_The Simian _and _Loss in Downtown Liberty."_

_"_I was the producer for _Loss_."

Waverly's eyes lit up. "So you're Michael De Santa!"

"Yeah!"

Trevor grabbed Michael by his shoulder. "Oh, yeah, it's so _fucking _fantastic! Listen Mikey, you're supposed to be interrogating HER, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!"

"Geez, Trevor, calm down. Alright, I've had my fun. So have you." He pointed to Wave. "Let's get down to business."

She slumped back, defeated.

"... You... seem pretty smart for someone of your background. Where'd you learn everything?"

"I taught myself. I didn't pay much attention to math or history... I like literature and the arts."

"What kind of arts?"

"Ballet!" she shouted. "Ballet... THAT'S what kept me from going over the edge! It's therapeutic! Relaxing! It builds character and muscle-"

"Calm down, kid," Michael chuckled. "I'm guessing that's what got you to the top of your class?"

"I'm one of Beverley's best. That doesn't mean she won't kill me."

"KILL you?!"

Her expression fell. "Anyone who she thinks has blabbed or gone AWOL gets... an agonizing death... I should be dead."

Michael and Trevor looked at each other. Michael, full of sadness and horror, Trevor impassive.

"Kid... Waverly... give me a sec, would ya?"

"Do I have a choice?"

* * *

"You can't send her back."

"I don't want her! And I don't want to kill her!"

"Oh, yeah, the only person that you hate and don't want to kill! That's a first!"

"Fuck you, Michael! You thumb sized cock!"

"Will you LISTEN to me for once?!"

The two men paced outside the trailer, each one agitated for their own reasons.

"Trevor, she doesn't deserve to go back to that hellhole!"

"Oh, and she deserves to fucking stay with me?!"

"It's better than what she has!"

"Oh, don't you DARE play dumb! You know how she can't fucking stand me!"

"Because YOU'RE NOT GIVING HER A CHANCE!"

Another period of silence. Trevor growled and disappeared into the trailer. When he came back out again, he was followed by Wave. The psycho stared straightforward, ignoring her poisonous stares. Michael took her by her shoulders.

"Wave," he began," I don't want you to go back there. No kid should have to. Let us take care of you, and you'll never have to worry about Beverley again."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep."

"I WILL keep it. And TREVOR WILL TOO."

The other snorted. "I guess I owe you anyways. As long as she BEHAVES, she can stay."

"Can't guarantee that."

"Hey," Michael warned, "you've seen how violent Trevor can be. I'd listen to him if I were you."

"I can handle myself."

He stood up, and went down the steps. When he got in his car, he looked back at the two criminals. So similar, yet so different.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..._

He rolled down his window and shouted, "' Here's looking at you, kid!'"

"_Casablanca!_"

Trevor rolled his eyes.

_END CHAPTER 4._

* * *

_Whoooooo! That was a LONG ONE!_

_At least now we have some major plot development._

_I would like to mention that there was a quiet reader who commented, "Maybe you have to see a therapist because you're 15 and playing an adult game."_

_Bitch, please. Do you know how many 9 year olds play Cock of Shitty?_


	5. Chapter 5: Impotent Rage

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Sail" by AWOL Nation. $_

* * *

It seems as though Trevor wasn't the only one dissatisfied with the Los Santos sunsets. Wave's expression was frighteningly similar when faced with the deep blue hues of the darkening sky. Not even the large, full moon seemed to faze her. Instead, she threw pebbles at passing cars, merely laughing when they honked at her, and flipped them off. It was one of the only things that felt familiar to her. Being hated. Unloved.

She loved it. Or, at least, so she told herself.

Trevor emerged from the trailer, snickering at her actions. At this point, he merely tolerated her, rather than ignored her. It wasn't that bad, to be honest. They had alot in common, whether they liked it or not.

"Kid!" he shouted. She whirled around. "Let's go get something to eat. I don't feel like cooking tonight."

"Sure thing, Trevor." She scurried into the back of the truck, hopping effortlessly on her nearly healed leg. She still cringed a little, but it was a fleeting pain rather than a constant burn.

Trevor himself scooted into the driver's seat, turning the ignition and slowly pulling out of the lot.

"Remind me why I can't sit up front again?"

"Because I don't like you."

"I don't like you either. Doesn't that cancel each other out then?"

"Nope. Doesn't work like that, kid."

"It's been two months, and you still can't say my name?"

"I hate your name. It's not harsh enough on the consonants. Rolls off the tounge too easily."

"It's not like I had a choice on what my name was."

"I'd pay for you to have it changed, but I'm not your legal guardian, so I have to put up with the shit that Beverley chose for you, WAVERLY."

"Fuck you, Trevor."

"Ooh, I wish you would!"

"Sicko!"

Trevor laughed maniacally, pleased with her reaction.

* * *

"You're banned, Trevor."

"Yeah, shut up."

The bar was as dead as it had ever been, with the same white trash scum that always came in and out at leisure. Noone even questioned if Wave was old enough to be there. She could easily pass for 21 if she wanted to, especially with her scraggly appearance and height.

"Get whatever you want, I don't give a damn. Try to keep it under fifteen bucks though."

"No promises, but I will try."

The two sat down in a booth farthest from the rest of the restaurant, browsing the menu casually.

"... What do you think of the Chicken Tortilla?"

"What do I think?" Trevor scoffed. "I think that it isn't chicken. The one thing that I know any health agency would ok in this shit hole would be the Chili and the hamburgers. Oh, and the alcohol of course. That's probably the one thing keeping this place from shutting down."

"I'll get a burger then."

As the two ordered, a small figure from a nearby table glanced up, frowning. Their hat covered their face well, drawing away recognition. The person leaned in, focusing on Waverly. When they had seen all they needed to see, they stood up, and left.

"So," Trevor began, "Was this your idea of going out with a family, or..."

"What? No, this is like... uh, like a school cafeteria."

"You've seen one?"

"Once. It was dark and dirty. Funny, how those two traits seem to coincide in my life."

Trevor took a swig of his Vodka. "You and me both, kid. And what about, uh, ballet? What's so fascinating about that that I'm missing?"

She shrugged. "What's so fascinating about Impotent Rage that I'm missing?"

"Hey!" Trevor complained, "Impotent Rage is the best thing to have ever happened in the history of EVER. He SPEAKS to me!"

Waverly rolled her eyes. "There you go. BALLET FOR ME in a nutshell. People like different things, Trevor."

"Don't talk to me like I'm an animal," he pointed. "I'm selfish, not stupid."

"Ballet is an outlet for me. It keeps me from going beserk, like I've seen you do a few times."

"The dog pissed on my truck, Wave."

"You said my name!"

"Yes, I did! Now shut the fuck up about it!"

* * *

The smell of coffee lingered longer than he would have liked, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. At least it was cool outside, so he could open the windows and let the wind waft out the unwanted odor. _Nice morning, I guess _ Trevor commented to himself. It was rare to have a day start off like this: calm. It was a rare... normal moment. Yes, that's what it was. Normal.

Trevor liked it.

It'd be another hour before Waverly woke up. Never an early bird. But she was never a night owl either. She slept twelve hours and lived twelve hours. Also, since she wasn't threatening to run anytime soon, he had kicked her out of his bed and onto the couch. She didn't complain. "Better than where I used to sleep," she had said.

Well, good for you, was Trevor's first thought. But as time drew on, he though about what it'd be like to not have a bed every night to crawl into. Sure, his parents weren't nice, but he always had a bed to go to for comfort. And masturbation.

He took another sip of his coffee, lost in thought. So lost, that when the first shot was fired, he just thought it was the rickety old trailer acting up to the cold weather. The second shot got his attention, and he sprang into action.

"Jesus fuck!" He dove over the counter for his gun, waking Wave.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"We're being attacked!"

Waverly joined him without another word, her pistol at the ready.

"The fuck do you think you can do with THAT thing?!" Trevor exclaimed. "Stay here! I'll call you if things get sticky."

"Trevor! Wait!"

He didn't wait to see what she had to say. He rounded the counter to the door, and chucked a grenade. It wasn't the explosion that surprised him, but rather the screams of horror and agony that followed.

They were children's screams.

"Not again," he muttered. "WAVE!"

"I didn't call them! I didn't even think they'd ever find me here!"

"Why are they trying to kill ME though?! What'd I do?!"

"They know you're harboring me! They want us both dead!"

"No fucking way, I'll kill them first!"

"Maybe I can talk to them-"

"Fuck that! You aren't going back to them! Mikey says so!"

Another three shots made their way through the house.

"You're going to listen to MICHAEL?!"

"I'LL NEVER BETRAY HIM. **NEVER!****" $**

The words resonated throughout Wave like an eternal echo, rocking her to her core. These words... she'd never heard them before. They made her feel guilty. Proud. Scared. To never betray someone... sounded like a challenge.

And Waverly liked challenges. There were only two people she had never lied to before. And she hated them both. One of them was in this room. So, she promised herself to never betray their trust, and ran to join him.

"The fuck are you doing!? Get back there now!"

"No!" she cried, then sent a bullet into her new enemies. His responding stare was priceless; it was a mix of pride and anger. She never wanted to forget that. So she fired again. And Trevor fired too.

Everyone knows pistols are not long range weapons, so it took more than a few shots for Wave to get any kills. But even Trevor was disturbed by her impassiveness. She knew these kids. She had grown and played with them, and now she ended them without a second thought.

She was worse than Michael. But, at the same time, better. Because of her newfound loyalty to him. It wasn't even a blind loyalty, or a loyalty out of fear. No, Wave would never be scared of him. Her loyalty was real. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Despite the dangerous situation they were in, and the more than likely chance that he would have to leave this end of Los Santos, Trevor laughed, happiness bursting from within him. Someone _trusted _ him. Not liked him, or loved him, but trusted him. There was a first time for everything, he supposed._  
_

The kids kept coming from cars and around the corners, and the bodies began to pile up. They could have holed out for days with all of the ammunition Trevor had, but what a waste that would be! The smell of smoke was filling the house anyways, and they soon realized the trailer was on fire.

"Bail!" Wave shouted.

"I'm right here! No need to yell! Jesus!"

They leapt from the window, quickly diving behind some junk he happened to have on his lawn. The fighting continued, each side being incredibly cautious.

Trevor was an excellent shot, each hit a critical one. But Wave specialized in headshots, though not every bullet found its mark. On average, they were both equally effective in their kill ratios. Occasionally, Trevor cracked a joke or two about Wave backstabbing not only her friends, but getting ready to betray him too. This angered her to a point where she nearly let a grenade explode right in her hand. If it wasn't for his keen eye, they both would have been blown to smithereens.

"This isn't working!" Trevor yelled. "We gotta fuck out of here!"

"No! We can hold it!"

"Wave, the trailer's about to fucking blow! We gotta go now!"

"This is your HOME!"

"I HAVE MORE THAN ONE! NOW COME ON, WE GOTTA GO, OR I'LL PULL YOU BY YOUR FUCKING HAIR!"

She kicked him as hard as she could, then took as many weapons as she could hold on to, and leaped into the truck. Trevor followed close behind, starting the truck and backing out and running over several kids in the process.

"I'm sorry if I ran over your legs!" He called. "I was aiming for your head!"

Waverly laughed and shot anyone who dared to attempt to follow them, but that didn't stop cars that began pursuit. After each shot, she cracked a joke, insanity filling her eyes.

"Oh, here, let me part your hair for you, my dear! Do you have a Lifeinvader? Allow me to update your status to DEAD! Hey, did you know I'm a psychic? I know what the last thing to go through your head will be!"

Trevor jumped into the fun, adding, "They don't have criminal justice where you kids are going! Straight to HELL!"

Wave pulled out a rocket launcher from the back of the truck, her grin widening from ear to ear. "SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND, FUCKERS!"

The blast from the shot rocketed her onto her back, and the following car erupted into flames, in turn crashing the one behind it. There was one last car to deal with, but they were running low on ammunition.

" Trevor, any ideas?"

"Yep! Get in the front seat! Buckle up and don't get shot!"

She complied without hesitation, eager to be in a safe spot for once.

He drove recklessly, paying no mind to any of the other traffic or road laws. The other car stayed close behind, never losing and never gaining, much like Trevor's first encounter with Wave. Soon, he came to a bridge he knew was under construction, with a large gaping hole in the middle. He slammed on the gas pedal, chuckling to himself.

"Little birdies can't learn to fly if they don't leave the nest!"

"Uh... Trevor?!"

"Hold on to your lunch!"

"I DIDN'T HAVE LUNCH!"

"THEN HOLD ON YOU DUMB FUCK! HAHAHAHA!"

Both vehicles sped to their limit, but it wasn't enough for the car behind them. While Trevor flew over the gap, the chasers drove straight into the opposing edge, and fell into the river below. The truck rammed to a hault, and the two criminals glanced over their shoulders, amazed that it had actually worked.

"Kid... you ok?"

"... yeah... I'm good. I'm good."

" You lying to me?!"

"No! I'm fine, you fuck!"

"...alright then... huh... it was a piece of shit anyways."

"The trailer?"

"No. My... Impotent Rage... statue."

(end song)

There was an awkward pause, and a faint explosion. Then, slowly, Wave shuffled around, and pulled something from behind her.

"What's this?" Trevor asked.

She held up his Impotent Rage figurine, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"You really like this dude. So... When I realized the place was on fire... and, well, it was just right THERE..."

He gingerly took the statue from her, cradling it like it was an egg.

"... Well, I... uh..."

He looked at her, and something twisted in his gut. It was a sick feeling, yes, but it was tolerable. And something in his heart leaped, too.

"... Let's... go to my other place." He put the truck into drive, and flipped on the radio.

* * *

_The sun is risisng,_

_walls are falling._

_Ashes blow in the wind._

_Driving forward,_

_adrenaline soars,_

_Ashes cover our sin._

_Odd unspoken,_

_deep connection,_

_Ashes hide the truth._

_Never say_

_that this day_

_was Ashes of war uncouth._

_END CHAPTER 5._

* * *

_GAH! THAT WAS HARD!_

_Was it good? huhm? DID I WON?! O.o_


	6. Chapter 6: Decoy

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk. +_

* * *

"... And then the dumb FUCKERS went 'BOOM'!"

Michael and Franklin cringed at the volume in Wave's voice, but still listening patiently to her side of the gunfight. Trevor himself chuckled in the corner of Franklin's living room, sipping his pop thoughtfully.

"They didn't stand a chance! I mean, COME ON, DUDE! IT WAS A FUCKING ROCKET LAUNCHER! Oh, and then there was this one dude behind him, and he crashed too! I mean, really Dave had it coming to him. He should know better than to fuck with WAVERLY, THE OUTCAST!"

The three men looked at each other uncomfortably. It was this easy for her to kill people she knew?

"But then, there was this last car, I think Jessie was in it?.. no, it was Anna, but anyways! Trevor here, tells me to buckle up, and then we go flying over a busted bridge, and Anna goes crashing into the river! Oh, if only you had seen the look on her face, Trevor!"

Franklin held up his hand, like he was in elementary school. "Sorry girl, but you is mutha' fuckin' scary! How can you jus' off your homies like dat?"

She ran up to him, roughly grabbing his shoulders.

"Because they chose to fuck with me, 'homie'. I never had any emotional attachment to them anyways! They were just the rats I once lived among, but I AM IN A BETTER PLACE NOW!"

Wave stepped back, laughing.

"... I have YOU GUYS!"

Trevor, Michael and Franklin covered their eyes, mouth and ears, respectively.

"Well, uh, don't get ahead of yourself, kid," Trevor stammered.

"We're not even sure what's gonna happen to you when we think it's safe to take you to foster care," Michael added.

Her expression fell. "... foster care?"

"Yeah, girl. This ain't no life fo' a kid like you to be livin'. You gotta getchyour schoolin' done, so you DON'T end up like us!"

"... but... Hah, guys... I'm sixteen, there's... There isn't any time left for me! My childhood is over, this... this is my life."

"And it's a horrible one," Michael added. "Always on the run from the police?"

"I've been on the run my whole life."

"Always being threatened by opposing gangs and corrupt law officials?"

"Been there, done that."

"Sometimes, you go out and wonder if you'll have a home to come back to!"

"Every day."

The three men groaned and sighed in defeat.

"Wave, I don't think you're understanding us," Trevor sniffed. "You still have a way out. We don't. We're on the radar, and we always will be. But YOU!" He held out his arms to her, like he was worshipping her. "... YOU'RE NOT! You can run away with your public innocence while you still can!"

"No."

"FUCK YOU, KID!" he shouted bitterly. "YOU'RE AN UNGRATEFUL PRICK WHO CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BLACK AND WHITE! DO YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE?! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

He stormed from the room, flipping everyone the bird on his way out. Michael and Franklin sighed. It seems there had been too many awkward silences, and Michael wasn't about to let another one creep in.

"Fine. Fine. Wave..."

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you guys."

"Nah, no, there's no proving necessary. What we do need, however, is a decoy for our next heist."

"I've never been a decoy before."

"It's easy. Franklin will tell you exactly what to do."

"Ah, dawg, I don' know 'bout this. Puttin' a kid on da front lines?" +

"Hey, Frank, you heard her story... she may be exactly what we need. And she doesn't want to be anywhere else... might as well give her something to do, right?"

"What do we need to do to prepare?" she asked.

"Ah, I like the way you think! Well, it seems to me you only specialize in headshots?"

"It comes naturally," she admitted.

"That's fine, but we aren't looking to make a mess this time around. We're going small, just a cute little jewelry store off of Vinewood. You're going to need to learn how to handle teargas. It's some pretty nasty stuff, but not lethal if used correctly."

"I can handle that."

"We'll see."

* * *

" Yeah gimme three of dem gas masks," Franklin told the shopkeeper.

"Sure thing. Check, cash or credit?"

"Debit, actually."

"Sure thing. Your total comes to $45.87. So, science project?"

"Ya could say that."

* * *

"Alright, Billy. Three... er, four ak47s, make it quick."

"Alright, Trevor. Hey, I saw a fire down in your direction. You know anything about that?"

"... must have been out of town."

"Really? I've never seen you leave LS."

"It was for a day, real quick."

"Ok then... here you go."

"Uhuh, shut up."

* * *

"Never throw the can with the lid facing you, kid. That is, unless you want your lungs to turn to acid."

"Yeah yeah, I got it Mikey."

"Ok, there are a few directions you can throw the stuff. There's forward, north-west and north-east. Not left or right, that'll be at too much of an angle to do any good. It'll be up to you to determine which direction is best, because we only got two cans. Everyone else, we're gonna have to beat down. You ever been in a fistfight?"

"Why don't you ask Trevor?"

"I had a feeling..."

* * *

The four criminals met back at Trevor's safehouse behind the Vanilla Unicorn to plot out the heist. Michael laid out the schematics, Trevor distributed drinks and Franklin went over the play.

"A'right, so the plan is Waverly an' I are gonna play chill 'til we get the ok from Lester. She's 'sposedly just gon' be a chick taken a look round the store, an' I'm gonna put a gun to her head. That's gonna be the distraction 'til T and Michael can get the charges in place. We gon' have ta blow a hole in da back, cuz there ain't no parkin' in the front. Fuckin' stupid if ya ask me."

"Then once they blow the charges, I toss the teargas and we all get on our masks?"

"Exactly," Michael confirmed. "We've looked inside and out of this thing, and this seems to be the only way to get around it. Going straight in gets the police on us straightaway. If there's a hostage situation, the cocksuckers are going to try to solve it themselves, which gains us some getaway time."

"So then we grab the jewels and bolt?" Trevor asked.

"An' then that's it," Franklin concluded.

"Are we going to need any outside help?" Wave asked.

"Well," said Lester as he limped into the room, "if you count me as outside help, then yes. And, you've got it. I assume you're the kid Trevor 'raves' about."

She held out her hand, and he took it eagerly. "Waverly."

"No last name?"

"Lost in time."

"Well, sorry to hear that."

"Lester, we've got a wierd method for Waverly to practice her targeting skills. We'll take her in to practice, and you can have your peace and quiet to set up and get a better layout of the store."

"Sounds like a plan, Michael."

"Wait," Waverly interrupted, "where are we going?"

Trevor giggled loudly, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "You ever played laser tag, kiddo?"

* * *

She wasn't bad, Franklin had to hand her that. She shot everyone else about ten times more than she was shot. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. Michael seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, laughing and running like he was a kid again. He was a favorite target of hers.

But the one person she sought to shoot most was Trevor Phillips. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a good aim on her, and every shot he did get in was by complete accident. Each time he yelled with rage, Wave laughed louder and louder, reveling in his frustration.

"C'mere, kid! I will fuck you up so hard, you'll have to scratch your nose with your fucking foot!"

"Get your head in the game, T!" Michael called. At the same time, Wave took advantage of their distraction and shot them both. When Michael laughed, Trevor screamed, "Shut the fuck up!"

"What?! She's really good, and I'm having fun!"

"I'm being beaten by a fucking kid!"

"T, really, it's just a game, calm down. Deep breaths, man."

The psychopath did as he was told, inhaling the stuffy air of the dark room. When he was sure he had calmed, he felt a tap at his shoulder. There was no one there. But when he faced forward again, Wave was there, grinning maliciously, and shot him straight in the chest, the light reflecting in her eyes. She ran away laughing, and Trevor lost his shit.

"WAVERLY! You're dead meat, you fuck!"

He ran after her with the intent to kill her, but her laughter was contageous, and he couldn't help but join in. His intent to kill her slowly changed to at least getting a hit on her. He would be satisfied with that.

When he realized her running patterns weren't changing, he changed his own direction, and cut her off. She squealed excitedly, trying to hit him away, but he laid his hand hard across her face.

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME!" he shouted. "Don't take me for such a fool, because I'm not."

He doubled over in pain in the next second, his crotch throbbing from the assault that it received, and she ran as quickly as she could into hiding.

Michael and Franklin laughed too, amused at the sight of their friend being bested by a child.

"Fuck you too," he managed to choke out.

"Dude, that's whatchya get fo' messin' with her. She's a tough Mo'fo'."

"Too tough" Trevor added, wheezing and whimpering. "She packs quite a fucking kick. argh..."

"I wouldn't want to get on her bad side," Michael admitted. "... You know who she reminds me of?"

"DON'T SAY IT," Trevor groaned.

"Alright, fine then. You obviously get my point."

Both Michael and Franklin's vests went off, signalling that they had been hit. They both chuckled and began to search for the girl.

"Hey, kid!" Michael snickered. "Come on out! Uncle De Santa won't hurt you!"

"Fuck you!" she called back, but it was all in good fun.

"Awe, come on dawg" Franklin chided. "Don't be like that! We jus' wanna talk to ya!"

Suddenly, she burst from the shadows, shouting like an Indian and shooting them both for thousands of points. There wasn't even any challenge anymore; it turned into a shooting circle, each member laughing loudly, before the game ended.

The final score, surprisingly, had Michael at the top, and Wave following by a mere two hundred points. Trevor ranked last, from his lack of participation in the final minute.

* * *

"You're going to pay for beating me someday, kid," Trevor threatened.

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. T, you're full of shit."

"Nono, Waverly, you do not deserve the luxury of calling me 'T'!"

Everyone else protested. "Ain't beatin' yo sorry ass enough for her?"

"No, she's gotta really COMMIT. It's earned through hard work and desperation, NOT LASER TAG!"

Michael shrugged. "Whatever, T. Everyone rest up, we've got a busy day tomorrow! Our newest member has some initiation to go through."

* * *

_What do you see from your window?_

_Can you see the stars,_

_Shining to protect you?_

_Can you feel the moon_

_wraping its rays around as your arms do?_

_Do you see God?_

_Can you feel his fear?_

_He fears for_

_the Outcast,_

_whom he can no longer hear_

_in her tortured sleep._

_END CHAPTER 6._

* * *

_I wonder..._

_I wonder if I'll look back at this someday and think, "Damn, this is horrible."_

_Well, until then... it's actually pretty satisfying for me._


	7. Chapter 7: RPG

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Bangarang" by Skrillex. £_

* * *

She woke in a cold sweat, clutching her arm and crying, "MAMA!"

Trevor jumped at the sudden awakening, then growled. "Mama?! The fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

Wave panted heavily, still trying to calm down enough to correctly form words. After a few seconds, he realized something truly was wrong, and he sat next to her, concern in his eyes.

"Wave, come on kid, what's up?"

"Nothing!" she gasped. Then, softer, "... nothing."

"No. This isn't 'nothing'. Something's wrong. Talk to me."

"It was just a nightmare, Trevor. I'm really ok."

All sorts of possibilities ran through his mind. _Maybe she had a flashback to something that happened to her mom? Or she was having a nightmare about having a mom... Or it was a wet dream. That's possible too._

He also realized that she was clutching her arm still. Gently, he pried her hand away, and examined it. The area where her hand had been was white, due to how hard she was holding it. As soon as the blood returned, Trevor could see an extremely faint scar. It was about three inches long, and was horizontal. When he probed at the area, Wave struggled out of his grasp, muttering:

"Don' touchit."

He raised his hands defensively. "Fine. Your arm is your business. I just thought it was interesting is all."

She stood shakily, making her way to the fridge, and pulled out a soda.

"When are you gonna get something to eat in here!? It's been four days, Trevor!"

"How does today sound?" he asked. She lifted an eyebrow expectantly. "Have you forgotten what today is?"

"Uh, no, it's Tuesday... oh, _oh wait! THE HEIST!"_

"That's right, kiddo!" he shouted. "You ready to make some DOUGH!?"

"MORE READY THAN EVER!" There was an obvious excitement in her eyes as she contained herself from bouncing off the walls.

"YOU GONNA BE A PRICK AND MAKE OFF WITH IT?!"

"HELL NO!"

"GOOD! LET'S GO MEET MIKEY! Oh wait, here, put this on." He tossed her a blonde wig and a hairband.

"The hell is this for?"

Trevor held up his own disguise: an Elvis mask and a Grim Reaper costume. "Don't want to be recognized right off the bat, do ya, kid?"

* * *

At the front of Michael's mansion in Los Santos was the strangest couple you would probably ever see. There was a pig with a cigar wearing a tuxedo, and a zombie wearing a plaid dress, with thick leather boots.

"This is fucking stupid," the zombie complained.

"You know the drill, Frank," the pig replied. "Each heist has to be approached differently, or they'll figure out our patterns."

"But why do I gotta wear a dress!?"

"The more flashy you look for the decoy, the better," he explained. The red, topless truck soon made its way over the paved driveway, Elvis and blondy in tow. When the truck switched off, Trevor stepped out, giggling to himself.

"Alrighty then!" Elvis exclaimed. "Take a look, one and all, at our GORGEOUS DECOY!"

He pointed to Waverly, who was wearing a light blue dress with some flats and a small handbag. Her thick shades, surprisingly enough, complimented the outfit. It was always sunny in Los Santos; no one would suspect a thing.

"I feel retarded," Wave complained. "How do chicks go around dressed like this?"

"You an' me both, kid," the zombie agreed, bumping fists with the teen.

"Hey, listen," the pig butted in, "we gotta do this right, so everyone listen up. I'm only going to go over the plan one more time."

"One time too many, coming from your mouth."

"Fuck off, T."

* * *

Sapphires, diamonds and rubies all harshly attacked her eyes when the decoy entered the shop. They were too shiny. How was she supposed to play interested while T and Mike set up the charges?

She rang the bell once, waiting for assistance. After three seconds, she began assaulting the button until someone harshly yelled, "HEY! Just a second, lady!"

"When I come to see your wares, I expect the highest quality!" she scoffed. "This is ridiculous! I'll go spend my money elsewhere-"

"No, wait! Hang on- gimme one minute, and I'll be right with you, ma'am."

"It better be one minute! I have a film to go shoot!" she lied.

"A film?" £

Waverly gave him an incredulous look. "REALLY? YOU DON'T KNOW?! I'm the star for... _Trouble in Terrorist Town_! How could you not..? Ugh, nevermind. Common people wouldn't know anyways. Quickly, show me your finest gems!"

"Uh-y-yes, of course!"

* * *

Lester took a sip of his coffee, thoroughly enjoying the scene before him. The manager _actually _thought he was serving a Vinewood star! Oh, it was too good to be true. He _had _to record this!

"Frank, you're up," he whispered into the earpiece.

"This is gonna suck."

* * *

"... a VERY similar necklace was worn by Annabelle Summersay herself! Of course, hers was embedded with real topaz, but I can assure you the Jade is very real!"

"Fascinating!" Waverly exclaimed. "And how much would this cost?"

Before the manager had a chance to answer, his customer was embraced by a female zombie wearing a dress holding a gun.

"Everybody get down!" the zombie shouted. There were screams of panic everywhere, including by Waverly herself.

"NO! HELP! SOMEONE! HE WANTS TO KILL ME! JESUS CHRIST, SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!"

Someone tried to do so, but one of the shopkeepers said, "Wait! We can handle this!"

"Too stubborn to file a report," Franklin muttered.

"LET GO OF ME YOU PSYCHOPATH!" She screamed again. Tears began to run down her eyes as she pleaded and begged to be released. Franklin was almost convinced by her act.

* * *

"T! Stop fucking around! Frank's in there!"

"But it looks _so much _like a-"

"Trevor!"

"Alright, fine! Don't know how to have any fun..."

The two men placed the charges on the wall exactly where Lester directed them to, and stepped back.

"Let's blow this wall into another dimension!"

"Provided that this new model actually works..."

* * *

"The charges are going off in ten seconds," Lester warned Franklin.

Meanwhile, the shopkeepers were in a panic, bargaining to the best of their ability to try and save their "Vinewood" customer. Everyone else was flat on the ground, praying to god that these people knew what they were doing.

"Come on man," the manager stuttered. "Is this really necessary to get what you want? We can give you a deal, if you want. Two for the price of one! OR TWO FOR THE PRICE OF THREE! Come on, name your poison!"

"My poison's TEARGAS!" Franklin yelled. On cue, Wave release the two cans she had been holding on to, and they both quickly put on the gas masks.

Simultaneously, the opposite wall erupted into thousands of concrete fragments, and the other two emerged, gas masks ready. Everyone else in the room fell and cried in agony, suffocating on the painful mixture.

"Get as many as you can grab and let's go!" the pig shouted. Each member took a key from a shop member and unlocked the display cases. This extra precaution was made to prevent the alarms from going off, and to allow more escape time.

"Ohoho! Look at all this glitter!" Trevor shouted.

"Th-th-thie-ief!" someone stuttered.

"Yes, we are!" Wave replied. "Good job for catching on, Einstein! Let's get what we got and go, this'll be plenty."

"Blondy's right," the pig said. "Time to fly!"

* * *

It was Trevor's idea to let Waverly be the one to drive them out of the fire. The only one who had second thoughts was Franklin. He hadn't seen her drive before, and besides: it was his job anyways.

Trevor's argument was, "Do you know if a bird can fly if you never let it out of its cage?"

So Wave drove.

Everything seemed to be going fine. She drove normally to try and avert suspicion, and it worked for a while. But someone must have squealed, because the police had them picked out within five minutes.

"LEFT!" she yelled, and the van made a sharp turn in said direction.

"JESUS CHRIST!" someone yelled

" THINGS ARE GONNA GET FUCKING MESSY! HOLD ON TO THE CHEDDAR!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!"

The criminals had a slight disadvantage due to the weight of their vehicle, but Wave's skilled driving cancelled it out. As for the police, they were brutal and merciless. They floored their gas, doing their best to catch up to the van. Those who got close rubbed up against the back of the van, causing the driver to swerve.

"Come on kid," Michael urged. "They're right there!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!" Trevor yelled.

"Fuck you, T!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

"I will turn this car around, mister!"

"NO!" all of the men shouted at the same time.

The van was roughly bumped from the side by a police car, rushing the van onto the wrong side of the road. Before they could be hit, Wave turned the car around sharply, and began heading in the opposite direction.

"We gotta lose them, or we'll never make it back to the safehouse! Lester, get on the traffic cams! I gotta know what to look out for!"

"Sure thing, kid! Hold tight!"

"Trevor, we need someone to ease the congestion. Take care of some of those cops!"

"Why, you little-!"

Michael cut in. "Is now really the time to be arguing, T?!"

"... point taken. One cooked up police dispatch, coming up!"

"Franklin, you work with Trevor. Michael, I want you up here with me. If the fuzz get clever and try to cut us off, someone'll have to shoot them."

"Good thinking, kid."

Trevor flung the doors open to the back of the van, laughing and cussing like a sailor.

"Hold on to the doors!" Wave added. "You can use them as a sort of shield if the pigs decide to fight back!"

"Stop telling me what to do!"

"T! Dawg! Grow up, man!"

"No! Hahahaha!"

Michael facepalmed, making a slick slapping noise against his pig mask.

"How do you work with these kids?" Waverly asked him. Michael gave her a look.

The van was bumped again, and Franklin shouted, "Yeah? Fuck you too!"

"Steady, Frankie!" Trevor shouted.

"Speak for yourself!"

"I'M TURNING THIS VAN AROUND RIGHT NOW!" Wave shouted.

"WHAT?!" Michael screamed.

She yanked on the wheel-hard. Everyone veered into the left wall as she turned right and, in her earpiece, Lester laughed.

"I'd told you it'd work!" he chanted to her.

"WAVERLY, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?" Trevor cried.

"YOU TRYIN' TA BUST MY CAP?!"

"WELL, IT WORKED! WE GAINED DISTANCE!"

"Wave's right," Michael shuddered, his head pounding from having hit the window. "Just let her do her thing, and I think we'll be ok."

"OR FUCKING DEAD!" Trevor yelled.

"EITHER ONE'S BETTER THAN JAIL!" Michael called back.

Lester spoke to Waverly again after he had calmed down. "Ok, ok... So, there's an empty highway off of a hundred fifth. It's a good place to go to pick off the cops."

"Guys, we're going to a hundred fifth! That close to here?!"

"Yeah," Franklin replied. "Take a right on the next road!"

"RIGHT!" she shouted. This time, everyone braced themselves.

Lester had been right, in a sense. The one crucial fact he had left out was that it was under construction, so it wasn't exactly easy come easy go. It was bumpy and extremely dangerous. The three men were not happy with this fact. The teen, however, slouched forward, a crooked grin sneaking on her face.

"Perfect," she purred.

This was her domain. Off-road.

The police followed close behind, sirens blaring to the max. "PULL OVER!" one shouted.

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Wave replied.

"IS THAT A KID!?" one asked.

"SURE IS!" Wave said again. "LOOK OUT, I'M FALLING OVER!" After, she rammed into the neighboring car, sending them flying off the highway.

Meanwhile, the three other men in the car were struggling just to stay on their feet, but their shots were surprisingly accurate for their current situation. Many of the pursuing cops crashed into one another due to their lack of living drivers, causing explosions and fires all along the construction sight.

"How we doing back there!?" Michael called.

"Just FUCKING DANDY!" Trevor growled.

"BETTER THAN NO REPLY AT ALL!"

"We're starting to run out of highway, guys," Lester said over the radio. "Time to wrap it up!"

"Y'all hear the man!" Franklin shouted. "Get out the heavy stuff!"

Michael rummaged through their equipment, and tossed Franklin an RPG. "Knock yourself out, kid! T, throw the leftover sticky bombs!"

"Aye aye, Captain!"

Waverly switched feet on the gas pedal, her current one getting tired and sore. "Those fuckers just don't know when to quit!"

"It's the law." Lester loudly slurped on his coffee. "It's their job."

"Not helping, Lester!"

"Look, do you want the facts, or would you like it sugar coated?!"

"NEITHER!"

As she screamed that, Franklin fired the RPG into the following cars, sending their fiery remains flying and tumbling through the sky. And that's when they could see the end of the highway.

"GUYS..!?"

"WE GOT ONE LAST MUTHA' FUCKAH'!"

"WE MIGHT BE TOO LATE!"

"Franklin, hurry!" Lester urged.

"AAAH!"

Trevor threw his last sticky bomb and detonated it immediately. He was right on target. The car burst into flames and came to an immediate hault.

"STOP THE VAN!" he yelled.

Waverly put all of her force into the foot brake and flipped on the handbrake, desperately trying to stop the van in anyway possible. The edge was _right there_.

"EVERYONE GET IN THE BACK OF THE VAN!" she shouted. "IF WE GO OVER, YOUR WEIGHT MIGHT HELP BALANCE US!"

The men did as they were told, and the van stopped inches within the fifty foot drop. Everyone panted heavily, the adrenaline rushing through their ears. Wave turned around, smiling. There was a small gash across her forehead from where a bullet had grazed her, but no one said anything.

"That... was fun."

"YOU FUCKING C*NT!" Trevor howled. "You could have killed us all! You could have died yourself! LOOK, YOU GOT FUCKING SHOT, HAD THAT BEEN AN INCH BACK, YOU'D BE DEAD, AND THEN WE'D ALL BE DEAD-"

"TREVOR!" everyone shouted. The psycho straightened himself and regained his calm, yet pissed countenance.

"... good job... Waverly."

Everyone smiled, and laughed. As for Lester, he leaned back in his chair, incredibly satisfied with the outcome of the heist. Then, he though to himself:

_I wonder if Mikey would like a copy of Wave's "acting" skills?_

* * *

_Laughing in the wind,_

_her hair like a victor's flag,_

_brings joy to the men._

_"Victory!" they cry._

_"The Outcast has triumphed again!"_

_And the sad girl smiles._

_END CHAPTER 7._

* * *

_It just gets harder and harder, doesn't it!?_

_*dies*_

_... that's what she said._


	8. Chapter 8: Hallelujah

_Why am I having such a hard time writing this? I already know it inside and out, from beginning to end!_

_Maybe it's just the putting into descriptive words I'm having trouble with. If it was just all dialogues, this would be cake. But that'd be BORING! :(_

_Well... in that case... The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Hallelujah" by... somebody. Certainly not me. But personally, I prefer the Rufus Wainwright cover." Here's the cue: ^^_

* * *

Trevor took his time walking down the halls of the theater, lovingly caressing the walls with his greasy, chapped hands. He reveled in the quiet of the empty theater, feeling a sense of godliness. He could control thesound as he pleased! He was the god of sound! He could choose for complete silence, or he could grab a radio and send forth ear- apocalyptic hell.

One of few things he could control.

Michael had promised him this small luxury on the weekends if he promised to behave, but today was different. He had wanted Wave for something. To be honest, Trevor felt a little anxious. What was he doing with her? _To _her? Was he finally deciding he didn't want her anymore? After three months of knowing her? Outrageous! Michael adored that kid... Did he adore her _too _much? Was he... _Oh, T. Don't even go there. Michael would never..._

Faintly, now that he paused to think, Trevor realized that there was faint music coming from the auditorium. He made his way there, certain that that's where Mikey and Wave would be.

He slipped in as quietly as he could, and was met with the most awe- inspiring sight he had ever seen. Michael has in a random chair in he empty theater, and Wave... well, Wave was _STUNNING_. The girl had tied her long black hair up in a bun, and even from this distance, he could tell she was wearing MAKEUP. Probably Tracey's doing, as Michael would have no idea how to work that stuff, and to be sincere, neither would Wave.

Not only that, but she was in a tutu. Like, a legit tutu. It was a dark violet with studded diamonds, and the leggings were even darker. It was long sleeved, but they were almost completely see through, and light and airy.

The last shock was that she was dancing. And dancing well.

Michael raised his hand, motioning for her to stop. "Good, good!" he exclaimed. "You wren't kidding when you said you like ballet!"

"I'd never lie to you, Michael."

"I'm starting to believe it! Now, for my short film, I want you to dance to _Hallelujah. _You think you can do that? No choreographing necessary, just look professional, and the other actors in other scenes will take care of everything else."

"And this will get me noticed?"

"Wave, Wave, Wave!" he exclaimed. "I'm a MOVIE PRODUCER! I can make things happen, baby! I can TAKE YOU PLACES! All you gotta do, is dance... and cry."

She shrugged. "I'll give it a whirl."

"Excellent! Show me what you have in mind, and then we'll get you on the actual set!" he started the song, eagerly rubbing his chin. ^^

As the song began, Wave contorted her face into an expression of pure desperation and depression. Michael nodded his approval.

First, she began in fifth position: both toes pointed inward, and the sides tight against one another. She began dancing by transitioning into a _battement tedu_, and achieving an _en pointe _seconds after. While in this position, she gestured her arms in many directions: _port de bras_.

Trevor was no expert on ballet; the only reason he knew these terms was because she had shown them to him. The rest of her graceful bends and curves were lost to him. It was fascinating, nevertheless, and beautiful. The movements, in a way, soothed Trevor. And, the song was frighteningly fitting for everything that went on between him and her.

"_The baffled king composing Hallelujah..._

_Hallelujah, hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah..."_

She turned into a _pirouette_, spinning once, twice, three times, and did it again. She seemed to glide across the stage, her feet moved so little. When they did move, they were in great bounds, and took even Michael by surprise. He didn't know she was so agile. He nodded his approval again, taking careful notes. From the little Trevor could see, it read "Improvements."

_As if Michael knows anything about ballet..._

"_She tied you to a kitchen chair. _

_She broke your throne and she cut your hair,_

_and from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah..."_

She crouched down, pretending to sob and rock back and forth, before stretching out into a perfect split, raising her arms up as if she was praying to God. Her light sleeves, due to their length, brushed her sides, and she had to restrain from laughing.

_"Hallelujah, hallelujah..._

_Maybe I've been here before;_

_I know this room, I've walked this floor._

_I used to live alone before I knew you..."_

There was a small raised platform that Wave leaped onto, pirouetting again and again at unrealistic speeds. Trevor whistled softly, still baffled as to how anyone could do this. Ballet wasn't as boring as he had thought...

As for Michael, he sat in his seat, vigorously taking notes and observing his actress at the same time. "Good, good..." he muttered absentmindedly.

Trevor cautiously stepped forward, trying not to attract attention to himself, and took a seat in the farthest, darkest corner.

_"Hallelujah, hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah..."_

Her arms began to dance along with her body, gesturing to unknown forces that surrounded her, taunted her and encouraged her. Her feet, prancing on the floor, pitter pattered until she leapt again, landing on the tips of her toes, bowing and spinning.

"Maybe we'll move that here..."

Trevor rolled his eyes. _Could he EVER keep his mouth shut?_

_"And remember, when I moved in you,_

_The holy dove was moving too,_

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah?_

___Hallelujah, hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah..._

___Maybe there's a God above,_

___and all I ever learned from love_

___was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you..._

___And it's not a cry you can hear at night._

___It's not somebody who's seen the light._

___It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..."_

Her dancing became more frantic as she tried to improvise an appropriate ending. She was running out of moves, but not ideas. She tiptoed across the stage, one foot crossing over the other, and she threw her arms back as if she was flying. When she reached the center, she turned roughly, facing the "audience". She fell to her stomach, turning over and over again until she spun herself up to her feet again. A nifty move, Trevor had to admit, as she made her way to the center again.

The song continued its steady repetition, and Waverly ended with a flawless pirouette, spinning again and again, and slowing to the end of the song. She ended with a graceful curtsy. Trevor saw tears in her eyes, just as Michael had directed. There was a solemn silence that made the room grow cold, until Michael clapped slowly.

"That... was _perfect_." He emphasized the word with pride and a hint of relief. "You've got yourself a part in my film!"

The teen smiled, too drained to properly celebrate. "Michael, you-"

"Are a GENIUS!" Trevor interrupted. The other two jumped with surprise. "I personally never would have thought to put a WANTED CRIMINAL FUGITIVE in what may- or, may not be- an AWARD WINNING SHORT! Congratulations! Someone give these two a Darwin award!"

Wave pouted, obviously EXTREMELY offended. Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Trevor said, "It was a joke, Mikey. I really, honestly don't care. This is your choice, not mine, and, personally, I think she'll do fantastic."

This seemed to simmer down the rising tension in the air, and the two muttered their thanks.

"Hey... T," Michael began. "We... well, my family... We were going to go to the boardwalk this evening and chill at the carnival. And, uh, we really want Waverly to go too. But, right now, you're kinda in charge of her... so it's up to you- actually, you could come with us if you wanted, we... get discounts."

Trevor raised a brow. "Well, isn't this an unexpected surprise. Yeah, the kid can go."

She fistpumped.

"... and I'll take up your offer. You and me need some more one on one time together. We still have approximately nine lost years to make up for. So, hey! Why not!?"

_END CHAPTER 8._

* * *

_No ending poem this chapter!_

_Because this chapter really doesn't need it._

_Also, can't think of anything._


	9. Chapter 9: Claustrophobia

_Sorry the last chapter was kinda pointless, but it sets up for some things later in the story. So does this one. Although it has the same premise (just everyday life), it will be a little more exciting. Kinda like the scene in _Despicable Me _were Gru takes the girls to the carnival, or whatever._

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Safe and Sound" by Capital Cities. Cue: %_

* * *

"And girl," Tracey added, "you would not _believe _all of the cute boys that come through here! I mean, yeah, a lot of them have girls already, but, _hello!? _They're boys! They go running at the first sign of trouble, or a cuter girl!"

Wave nodded, inwardly rolling her eyes. "Tracey, you sound like a heartbreaker."

The older girl put her hand to her chest, acting hurt. "Why, Wave, how could you ever say something so... so... _mean?! _I'm not a heartbreaker! I'm just the better, second option!"

"That sounds even worse."

"Oh, you _silly! _You know what I mean!"

"Uh, no, Tracey," Jimmy cut in. "She doesn't. All I hear coming out of your mouth is 'PROSTITUTE!'"

His sister stomped, now really offended. "Jimmy, shut the fuck up! You're not a girl, you wouldn't understand!"

"Look, I may hide out in my room all day, but, being a guy, I know I wouldn't leave a chick because of something stupid-"

"But that's how ALL guys are! I mean, look at dad!"

"HEY!" Wave commanded, "Don't you DARE bring Michael into this!"

Meanwhile, Trevor, Amanda and Michael talked themselves, oblivious to their children's conversation.

"Oh, I'm so happy you and Waverly could make it, Trevor!" Michael's wife exclaimed. "That poor girl doesn't get enough time to just be a kid. Especially not with YOU TWO dragging her around everywhere!" She eyed her husband coldly. He, in turn, raised his hands in self defense.

"Hey," Trevor said. "That's where she wants to be. If she wants to be somewhere else, she better fucking tell me. I'm not a fucking mind reader!"

Amanda waved him away dismissively. "You're right, Trevor, you're right. She's a big girl, she knows what she wants. If she wants to waste her life away in such a horrible manner, that's her choice. But for today, she's a teenage girl, not a full fledged criminal, ok?"

The two men shrugged uncomfortably. They didn't like to think of Wave that way. She was just another member of the crew, not some dainty little thing.

Trevor glanced back at the kids, then did a double take. "HEY!" he yelled. "WAVERLY! What have I told you about kicking Jimmy in the balls!?"

"He started it!"

"No, I don't want any excuses! You apologize to him right now, and then you're gonna rub his balls later."

Michael leaned in and whispered something to him. A look of disgust crossed Trevor's face, and he quickly changed his past statement.

"Nevermind, just apologize."

The girl did as she was told, then joined the adults. The other two kids watched after her with apparent frowns.

"I don't think they like me," she whispered to Trevor.

"Eh? Well, they're just as mean and vulgar as you... minus the heartless killing part. They shouldn't hate you."

"I never said hate, just don't like."

"Whatever, you're fine. I've known those kids since they were little babies. They'll warm up to you. If they can like me-"

"T, you're up!" Michael shouted.

"Huh? Oh, right." He walked up to the ticket booth and ordered two all day passes for him and Wave.

"Give me your arm, honey," the cashier said.

Wave stepped back. "Why?"

"You need to wear this wristband so we know that you purchased a ticket into the park, or else you can't go in."

"I... uh, ok. My right arm though!"

Trevor and the cashier raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

The two families entered the park, Michael's children wooting and hollering. They ran ahead, taking it all in.

"KIDS!" Amanda yelled. "LET ME GIVE YOU SOME MONEY FIRST! Jimmy, get back here right now! TRACEY!..."

Michael and Trevor chuckled, amused at the sight. They walked along slowly, absorbing the excitement and joy in the air.

"How long's it been since YOU'VE been here?" Trevor asked.

"Oh, I dunno... Gee, three years? It was Amanda's idea to come here anyways."

"I came here to off that one bastard... damn, can't even remember his name."

"Just goes to show how little you care."

"Hey, he was a douche! There's a difference! A subtle one, yes, but he..?"

Trevor stopped short, looking back in the direction they came. Michael did too.

Waverly was still standing stiffly at the entrance. From where the men were, they could tell she was hyperventilating.

"Wait here," Trevor commanded. He ran back to her, kneeling in front of her, and clutched her arms.

"Kid! What's up?"

She looked at him shakily, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She clutched his arms, and hoarsely breathed:

"So... so many people... so big... I can't- I just..."

Michael joined them moments later. "Wave, you alright?"

"She has claustrophobia," Trevor trembled. "Where's the nearest snack bar?"

"It's right around the corner. We can take her there."

"Come on, Wave, we'll get you out of this."

"T-t-trev-vor..."

"Take my hand and hold on tight. I... _promise... _I won't let go, ok?"

Her sweaty palm clutched his, so tight, he heard some fingers pop.

"It's just one foot after the other," Michael reminded her.

"I know!... I know how- how to walk..."

Each time they were bumped or jostled, Wave whimpered and clutched her left arm tightly, right where the scar was. Trevor did most of the walking, dragging her along as gently and quickly as he could. When they finally made it to the tables, Trevor and her sat down, and Michael left to get her a drink.

"Damnit, Wave!" Trevor sneered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I- I didn't kn-know! I nev-never..."

Large tears began to trickle down her face, and even Trevor softened at the sight. He took her hand gently. _Of course, _he realized. _She's been in that hellhole her whole life. She's never been somewhere like here before._

"... What's up with your arm?" he asked softly.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Are you SURE about that?"

"..."

"..?"

"... yes."

The other man came back with a tall cold cup of water, and ordered the girl to drink up. She did without hesitation, and the subject of the scar was dropped.

"Listen kid," Trevor began. "I'm not about to let 25 dollars go to waste. This place can be all sorts of fun! You just gotta give it a try! I promise that, even when things get tight, I'll be right next to you. We can stay close to Mikey and his family too."

"Trevor, don't make her do something she doesn't want to do-"

"MICHAEL, SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT FUN IS!"

Several people looked in their direction at the disturbance, then briskly walked on.

"... Trevor, calm down, ok? I was like this when I was a kid too, but kinda the opposite. My problem was that I hated to be left alone, so I would TRY to surround myself. I eventually grew out of it, but maybe Wave needs a little more time."

The two men looked at each other. Trevor closed his eyes and sighed, then looked back to the girl. She wouldn't make eye contact with him.

"... do you wanna get out of here?" he mumbled.

"Why do you care?" she snapped. "You're Trevor Phillips. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Her words stung like dried ice, and he finally realized what he had been missing that could get him on the road to being normal. _Feeling_. Caring about others and trying to do good by them no matter what, and not just when they need it. Normal people... _cared_. Had real friends. Hell, that was how normal _criminals _were. If he could be that much...

In his brain, he dusted off an old key, and unlocked a chest of emotions and feelings that he had locked away for years.

"I care... because I don't want you to have the same childhood I did."

Both of the other criminals looked at him with shock. Trevor Phillips said something selfless. Not only that, but it was obvious that he meant it. He wouldn't make eye contact with them, and his cheeks had turned a shade of bright pink.

Wave slowly came back from Disbelief land and nodded to herself. Then, she replied, "I'll, well... I've been through worse. Effortlessly. Why should this get the best of me? But..."

Trevor nodded understandingly. "If it gets to be too much..."

The rest went without saying. He helped her to his feet, along with Michael.

"Today's your day, kid!" Michael exclaimed. "Go live it!" %

* * *

The lines were worth the wait, they all decided, especially with Waverly's strained, yet somewhat sincere amusement and wonder. As the day dragged on, she became more and more at ease with the large, crowded surroundings, and more and more excited to be there.

Her first time trying cotton candy was hilarious to all of them. She didn't know you could touch it with your hands, so she tried to stuff the entire tip in her mouth. Everyone laughed, causing her to pout, but after the other kids showed her how it was done, she enjoyed the sweet treat wholeheartedly.

The first ride they tried was of course the beginner's ride: the swings. She didn't understand what was going to happen, even after it was explained to her twice. As the seats began to rise, she closed her eyes tightly. When they were done rising, she opened her eyes. The rotating, raised seats made her squeal with delight, and she held her arms out as if she was flying. It was then that Trevor decided her sincere smile was the most adorable thing in the world. Of course, he shook the thought away, surprised he would think such a thing. But still, it lingered.

After that, they went to the bumper cars, where it turned more into a grudge match between Trevor and Michael, which everyone else enjoyed thoroughly. They tried their best not to throw profanities at each other for the sake of their younger audiences, but a shit and damn slipped occasionally.

Her first roller coaster nearly was the end of her trip, but after the loop the loop, it was the swings all over again.

There were also bumper boats, which were a hit with the De Santa's, who wanted to go again and again, even after they were soaked to the bone.

The games really had Trevor and Wave's attention, who were always trying to sabotage one another somehow. Shoving, punching and pinching were all on the agenda, and they reveled in it.

Everyone waited patiently as Michael and Amanda went in the tunnel of love on their own. When they came out, they both looked disheveled and satisfied. Michael whispered to Trevor, "I think I just saved my marriage."

The other rolled his eyes and snickered. Wave laughed too, guessing what had transpired.

Wave and Trevor both shouted relentlessly at the animals on display when there wasn't anyone paying attention. The lion ended their fun when it ran up to the gate and tried to eat their face. They were both startled, but laughed hard for a long time.

Tracey forced Wave and her mother to go and get face paint with her. The three men waited out side, whistling at attractive women who passed by. When the girls came back out, the men pretended to not know them, looking confused and asking, "Who are you? My wife doesn't look like a tiger!"

"I don't have a sister that looks like a peacock!"

"Where'd Wave go? I mean, this little dragon looks a lot like her, but..."

"Trevor, really?"

"Wha? WAVE? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?"

"Ah, shut up!"

"No, seriously! How'd they make it look so good!?"

"Uh... art school? I don't know, Trevor! I don't take art school! I don't paint faces, unless you count blood as a paint!"

The balding psychopath burst into laughter, and stayed that way for three minutes.

"GOLD! THAT WAS GOLD! I gotta put that in my joke book!"

"What?" Michael asked. "What's so funny!? If it makes Trevor laugh, it might not be good!"

While they were walking along the games that offered prizes, Wave gasped loudly and pointed excitedly, unable to properly form words.

"What? What is it, girl?" Trevor chanted. When he saw where she was pointing, he gasped too.

"GIANT IMPOTENT RAGE PLUSH! JESUS CHRIST!"

It wasn't an option anymore. They had to win it. Or, they could just kill for it, but that'd cut their fun short.

They had to pop fifty balloons to win it. Aiming with the darts was not a problem for them, but getting the needle in was, as the darts would dip to a point where they wouldn't penetrate anymore. After a few games, and some hundred bucks, the two players were victorious, raising their prize and shouting maniacally.

Trevor taunted the boothkeeper, who didn't think they could do it. "IN. YOUR. FACE! HAHAHA! I GOT IMPOTENT RAGE, I GOT IMPOTENT RAGE~..."

"Oh, what's that?!" Wave added. "'IT'S IMPOSSIBLE'!? Impossible my ANUS! Here, little birdie, you want a perch!?" She flipped him off, smiling broadly.

These two were bursting with energy, chasing each other down the docks as fast as their legs would carry them. Michael and Amanda gazed after them with wonder.

"Who would have thought that Trevor could get so attached to someone just as mean as him?" Michael asked. "I thought it was opposites who were supposed to attract?"

"Trevor knows loyalty, not attachment," Amanda pointed out. "He's never really loved anyone! Not sanely, at least. You're getting the two words mixed up, Michael."

He shrugged. "I guess, but sometimes... sometimes I worry about that girl. She's cocky. She's been on T's bad side before, but it's even worse once he knows you. I have no doubt that she'll slip up, and then... what? That'll be up to Trevor. And THAT'S what worries me."

Down the dock, the two criminals yelled and hollered at each other, smiling and shoving each other.

"You stupid fuck, you're gonna make me fall in!" she yelled. "I can't swim!"

"Then I'll get you!" he replied. "What, you don't trust me?!"

"Trevor, I trust you about as far as I can throw you!"

"Bullshit, you like me more than that!"

"Can you even swim?!"

"We've both been swimming since before we were born!"

"That doesn't count!"

"Oh, yes it does!"

"We weren't even BREATHING before we were born!"

"Oh, look over there!" he shouted, pointing to the sunset.

"Where? Where!? I don't see anything!"

"Right there, you dumb fuck!"

At last, she realized what he was pointing at, and shivered unintentionally.

"Ok... um, that's actually... pretty cool."

The purple hues blended in with the pink hues, and the sky looked like a mattress in the way that the clouds were aligned. The last of the sun caused the ocean to glitter brightly, like glass, and behind them, the moon shone brightly.

As Trevor stood here with the Outcast, he realized that it wasn't that bad to actually care about other people. It actually felt... kinda nice. Soothing. Like you weren't alone in the world. He looked down at the little rebel, who had taken a seat on the planks, smiling into the sun. Her long hair flowed behind her, and she held on to Impotent Rage tightly.

And that's when Trevor decided he really, _really _liked sunsets.

* * *

_Take a seat_

_next to me_

_watch the sun_

_take its peace._

_Behind the sea,_

_below you and me,_

_you are the one_

_that sets me free._

_END CHAPTER 9._


	10. Chapter 10: Ashes

_The optional soundtracks for this chapter are "Childhood Memories" and "The Experiment" (€) from Beyond: Two Souls._

_I know! Two songs!_

_Start "Childhood Memories" as soon as you start reading._

* * *

Trevor carried a sleeping Waverly gingerly through the door

of the Vanilla Unicorn, caressing her hair with his breath. He was careful not to touch personal, delicate parts of her body as he stripped her of her pants and shirt, and laid her on the couch, which was her bed. He covered her with her blanket, and made sure she was snug before going back out to the truck to get Impotent Rage. After he laid the plush next to her, he sat in a chair across from her, and took another sip of his beer.

The day had been great, and everyone felt closer in a way. Michael's kids still weren't sure what to think of Wave, but they did seem comfortable overall. Michael and Trevor themselves had gotten along great for once, not trying to be mean to each other. Wave had had the day she had needed her whole life. Trevor, personally, was glad that he could be a part of it.

The girl's hair folded gently over her shoulder and onto her pale hand. Her chest lifted and fell with her breathing. When she shuddered, Trevor shuddered too. Then, he scoffed. _The hell was_ that? But he knew exactly what it was. He just didn't want to admit it.

He had read an article on it a month ago while taking a shit. It was a parental instinct to react to events in the same way that your child would. Including events such as shivering and shuddering.

But that was impossible. Wave wasn't his offspring. He had no hereditary connection to her.

But what if...

Three months ago, Trevor would have shot this monster in a heartbeat. Someone so selfish doesn't deserve to live.

Two months ago, Trevor would have glanced at the kid and shrugged. Nothing special. She was just another person he knew, among several.

One month ago, he would have seen her as a member of his posse. An equal, you could say, both in mind and body.

And now?

That was the problem. Trevor didn't know what to think. She was more to him than just a friend, but he didn't want to bang her either. What was the word for this? Is this what people called the Friend zone? What did he want from her?

Well, it was something. But did it have a word?

He shook his head frustratingly, trying his best not to make a sound of discontent.

Wave stirred in her sleep, catching Trevor's eye and heart. She was just so... complicated. A work of art. Almost everything she did was amazing. Trevor was beginning to believe she had been made just for him.

Still... it was obvious that she still had a slight interest in finding out who her parents were. She would see kids walking along with their parents, gazing after them wistfully. The closest thing she had ever had, or remembered of a mother, was the ever mysterious and threatening Mistress Beverley.

She deserved more than that. Trevor believed he could give her that. He had this perfect little idea stuck in his mind that, maybe someday, he could convince her to come away with him to Canada, or some other place, and start all over. Live, as he had dreamt for so long, normally. Or, at least, semi-normally.

Why did that sound familiar to him?

Oh. Now he knew what Michael's reasoning was.

He sighed quietly, and stood. He didn't want to have to explain why he was watching her sleep if she woke up. So, he stuck his beer in the fridge, yawned, and went to his own bed.

After he undressed, he lay half nude above his covers, thinking to himself.

The first thing that came to his mind was why Wave was so against people touching her arm. He was also curious about the scar. Hell, she didn't even know the answers. But she didn't want to find out. Perhaps, though she had lost her memories, the feelings and connotations of situations remained implanted in her mind.

And, well, scars aren't exactly happy memories.

Then there was the issue of her claustrophobia. For someone so brave and daring, it was odd that she could be bested by such a common fear. He had tried to touch on this topic on their way home from the boardwalk, but due to her tiredness and lack of knowledge of her own past, they didn't get anywhere.

But who was Trevor to judge her? He was afraid of his own mother, which a lot of the population would find silly.

He shrugged to himself. Drunk, tired and satisfied, he closed his eyes. These thoughts could wait. Besides, why ruin such a happy day with so much thinking?

Outside, Wave's eyes fluttered open. When she realized that she was undressed, she wanted to punch Trevor in the throat, and hug him at the same time. He paid attention. He knew how she liked to sleep, and it touched her.

She sunk deeper into her blankets, inhaling the strong scent of sweat and alcohol from the strip club. Honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. This was the life she wanted to live. If anyone had a problem with that, they'd have to talk to her fist.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, the club was empty. Not even Trevor was there. He did, however, leave a note, saying he was going hunting with Franklin, and to help herself to whatever she wanted. She smiled. Responsibility? She didn't think Trevor trusted her THAT much.

Well, it didn't matter. The club was closed, and it was all hers.

She wooted and hollered, running around like she was mad, jumping off of couches and dancing on tables. She even tried her hand at the pole, but she wasn't that agile. When she got bored, she cleaned everything up, just for Trevor, and went back to the manager's office.

* * *

"An' you really think dats a possibility? T, dis one's really out there, man. What makes you think Lester'll even wanna do it? We both know you scary as fuck!"

"Franklin, for once in your relatively short life, give me a chance! I've never been so sure about anything in my life! Not my decision to smoke crack, not my decision to become an official criminal, nothing!" Trevor pranced wildly around his friend, excited beyond words. Franklin was packing their kills in the back of his truck, as Trevor needed his.

"Dude, if you wanna do dat, that's fine by me, but it'll be expensive, yo!"

"I have money! Lots of it!"

"It'll be a lot of high maintenance."

"I had a dog once."

"This ain't anywhere near that!"

"Franklin, come on!" Trevor exclaimed. "Back me up on this!"

Franklin shook his head. "You gonna help with these deer or not?!"

"I want an answer! This is a matter of life and death! Everything depends on this!"

Franklin threw his hands up in defeat. "Argh! FINE! Because you're too fuckin' lazy to do it, I'll ask Lester to look at a few houses fo you."

"Yes! Oh, thank you so much!"

In his excitement, he pecked Franklin on the cheek, who recoiled in horror, then ran home to tell Wave the news.

* * *

Michael looked out his window with his cup of coffee and watched as two firetrucks whizzed by, sirens blaring.

He took a sip nonchalantly. He could see the smoke, but as long as the fire wasn't near him, he didn't care.

"Eh..."

His wife emerged from the bathroom, makeup successfully applied. "What you looking at, Michael?"

"Hm? Oh, just a fire."

"Where?"

"South. We'll be fine."

"What about Trevor? Doesn't he live down that way?"

"Well, he went hunting with Frank, so if the Unicorn does burn down... wait..."

A look of horror twisted his face painfully. He turned quickly, staring Amanda dead in the eye, and whispered:

"WAVERLY!" €

* * *

Trevor drove in and around lanes that were congested, gripping the wheel tightly. He turned up the volume to his radio, listening intently.

"_... but even though it is obvious it was started intentionally, it is still not clear as to the cause of this fire. Firefighters are doing their best to battle the flames and prevent them from spreading to other establishments."_

"Wave, you better not be fucking dead when I get there!"

* * *

She coughed loudly, then hoarely screamed for help. She tried to find her way out again, but the smoke was too thick. Instead, she ended up cornering herself, being as far from the exit as she could be, and ending up trapped when a flaming beam came crashing down in front of her.

"HELP! SOMEBODY! Ack- hack- TREVOR!"

* * *

"WAVERLY!" Trevor shouted as he ran from his truck. "Holy...fuck... WAVE!"

He hadn't realized the flames would be so massive at this point. This fire was definitely man made. Whoever had done this was going to pay. But Wave was in there. There was no way she would have gotten out, and if she had, he would have seen her by now.

He bolted past the firemen who told him to stay back, past the firemen who were actually working on containing the flames, and dived straight into the club.

Michael and his family arrived seconds after, just in time to see his brainless act.

"Oh my god!" Amanda screamed.

"Dad, is Wave really in there?!" Jimmy asked excitedly.

"Kids, stay in the car," he demanded as he himself exited.

* * *

"WAVERLY!"

"HELLO? TREVOR?!"

"Kid! Argh... WAVE!?"

"TREVOR, I'M STUCK!"

"HOLD ON, I'M... CACK, ACK!.. I'M ON MY WAY!"

Each and every individual flame tried to envelope Trevor whole, to a point where it became safer to continue shirtless rather than fully clothed, due to its flamability. He used the dirty fabric instead to somewhat filter the smoke so he would last a little longer.

"TREVOR! I'M, AH! I'M IN THE... OFFICE- ckah!"

"USE YOUR SHIRT TO FILTER THE SMOKE! I'm at the door!"

He burst through the flaming fabric, the heat slowly becoming too much to bear. He rounded the corner, stepping over flaming debris, and opened the door.

She was there in the far corner, leaning back from the flaming beam. Tears were streaming down her soot-stained face as she reached out to him.

"TREVOR!"

* * *

"Look, there's people in there!" Michael cried. "You're just gonna sit out here and do nothing?"

"Sir, there's nothing we CAN do! Those flames are too dangerous-"

"AND THEY'RE NOT FOR A CASUALLY DRESSED MAN?!"

"Sir, please step back!"

"There's a fucking kid in there!"

* * *

"Take my hand and I'll pull you over!" Trevor shouted.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!?" she screamed. "I'll get burnt!"

"Not if I pull you fast enough!"

"I CAN'T DO IT!"

"YES YOU FUCKING CAN!"

Another beam fell, spreading embers and smoke. They both yelped in surprise and pain at the sudden heat.

"TREVOR!" Wave sobbed.

"WAVE, TAKE MY FUCKING HAND!"

"HOW CAN I TRUST YOU!?"

"YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO FUCKING DO IT!"

"HOLD ME!"

"GET OVER HERE!"

He grasped her wrist with all the strength he had and, when she jumped, he yanked her into his arms. She lost her shoe in the process, but it went unnoticed.

"GET UP, YOU FUCK!" he yelled. "Argh... ckahk, FUCK!"

He took her hand in his, trekking through the smoke and fire as quickly as he could. Halfway on their way out, another beam fell, nearly blinding the two.

"JESUS!" Wave screamed, falling to her knees. "MY EYES!"

"WAVE!" Trevor roared like a mighty beast, and picked up the girl like she weighed nothing. The room was nearly pitch black from all the smoke, but Trevor could still see the bit of sunlight from a collapsed wall. He ran at lightning speed toward the light, yelling and coughing like mad.

* * *

" GET SOMEONE IN THERE !" Michael yelled. The firemen were about ready to get the police involved with this, when suddenly, a man did burst from a collapsed wall, a sick child in his arms.

"TREVOR!"

Michael ran to his old friend, and the rest of his family emerged too.

"She's not breathing!" Trevor panicked. "She's not breathing!"

"FIRST AID!" Amanda called. "SOMEONE!"

The firemen rushed to Trevor's position, oxygen tank at the ready. They placed the mask over the girl and waited for a response.

"DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME, YOU FUCK!"

Tracey began to cry, obviously shaken by the events. Amanda paced back and forth, repeatedly crossing her chest and Michael and Jimmy did so as well. Trevor was the only one to stay by Waverly's side until she began to cough.

The man sighed in relief. "She's fine! She's alive, she's going to be fine! Oh, Wave! Waverly, my..."

He held the girl close to his chest, sobbing with relief and laughing his typical laugh. Today, neither of them were forced.

* * *

_The sky was a bright orange when she opened her eyes._

_She woke in his arms, and saw his tears._

_His smile was crooked, and when he cries,_

_he sobs like a child. In all her years,_

_no one cared as much as he_

_for what she was or could be._

_His deep, chocolate eyes overwhelmed her._

_Deep inside her, she wished her father_

_was like Trevor Phillips,_

_so she'd never have to leave_

_this life._

_Even after she left him._

_END CHAPTER 10._


	11. Chapter 11: Giselle

I_ apologize for the late upload. I spent all day putting up Christmas decorations._

_For those of you who may or may not have complaints about the novel lacking in classic GTA qualities, don't worry. Those characteristics are going to be very much apparent for the next eight or so chapters._

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Homeless Life" from Beyond: Two Souls. ¢_

* * *

There was nothing left when the firemen finally starved the fire and cooled the ashes of the once great Vanilla Unicorn. Everything was gone. Not even the pole made it out of the intense heat. The smoke added to the already thick and heavy air, and the clean-up process had already begun.

Sitting at the edge of an ambulance, Waverly clutched Trevor's Impotent Rage figurine tightly, large tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't like it when Trevor yelled, but there was nothing she could do. Trevor would be Trevor. Loud, rambunctious and scary as fuck.

"Look, Trevor," Michael continued, "there was nothing that could be done! There weren't any signs, we had no idea it would be coming!"

"There HAD to have been something!" he shouted. Trevor then held up the slip of scorched paper, pointing at the insignia. The paper pictured a paw with another paw within one of the claws. The Little Cubs gang.

"This was here AFTER the fire," the psychopath continued. "They want us to know it was them. Not only that, but they made sure I was gone before doing anything. My question, is why?! What good would killing Wave do for them!?"

"Well, let's do a head count here, shall we!?" Michael pointed to each of his fingers after he stated an event. "You've killed several of their kids, you mocked them, kidnapped their favorite, then turned her against them, and have ultimately shattered their foundations by causing them to dive straight into the action! That's not something the majority of them trained for!"

"If they hadn't taken any of my fucking money in the first place, none of us would be here right now!"

"AND!" Michael pointed into his friend's chest angrily. "If they wanted to get back at you, what's the one thing they could take from you that would have any major effect on that steel heart of yours!?"

There was silence as everyone processed the information.

"The FIB."

Everyone turned to Waverly.

"... Mistress has a corrupt portion of the FIB doing some of her dirty work. They can track everything. Where does some of your data go when you make a purchase with a credit card? Not only that, but she has some kids out on the field, collecting data of their own. There's a chance one of her kids saw us, because I've never seen Trevor use a credit card."

"Signing something can also end up in their hands," Michael added, realizing where Wave was going with this. "There's traffic cameras, IP addresses... fuck..."

Wave sobbed harder. "Trevor, I'm so, so sorry! I'm so, so, so... so..."

Trevor sat next to the girl. "I don't give a damn, Waverly. I'm just... so happy... you're safe."

He spent ten minutes comforting her, softly petting her back and whispering consoling nothings into her ears. After, Michael asked, "So, what are you going to do?"

"... I don't know."

The older of the two sighed, pacing restlessly. "You're always welcome in my home, T."

"NO." Trevor stated firmly. "I'm not getting you involved in this. Not Amanda, not Jimmy, not Franklin... no one. This is a path I've decided to take."

He stood, stroking Waverly's hair.

"... and I'm taking it alone."

"You should leave it up to Wave."

"I'm not giving her a choice," he snarled. " She should not put you in danger because she wants a bed. There... there are just some things you gotta forfeit for the better of your friends."

Wave smeared her tears across her face with her hand. "Trevor's right. You got a family, Mikey. We can't break that apart."

Michael shook his head. "It just doesn't seem right."

Trevor gently pushed his old friend towards his car and waiting family. "We'll talk again when things seem to calm down. Wave, come with me. Get in the truck."

Michael did as he was told, looking back wistfully the entire way. "Don't be afraid to ask of anything from me!" He opened his door, glancing back one more time, then left.

The girl stood, following closely behind the psychopath. "Where are we going?"

"We need to get a makeover, I guess. Throw them off the scent. I know a few places. But, you are going to have to get creative. There's one thing I absolutely need you to do though."

"Which is?"

He glanced at her, a pained look on his face.

"... you gotta chop off your hair. All of it."

* * *

"What do you wanna do today, sweetheart?"

Wave sat in the barber's seat, stiffly looking straight forward. In the mirror, however, she could see Trevor nodding.

Wave took pride in her long, black hair. It was her trademark among her old allies, who preferred to keep their hair short. It was thick, silky and healthy, which was a blessing to the majority of the other kids that had lice.

It was also what she was known for.

She sighed, knowing full well it was a sacrifice that had to be made. "I want to... get a boy cut. Not like Bieber... Just a plain old guy haircut."

"Sure thing, hon. You wanna donate the excess?"

"Uh... yeah, why not. And, um, can I have my hair dyed... blonde?"

"If it's alright with your dad over there, then sure."

Both of them tensed. Trevor? Her FATHER? That was ridiculous.

"Uh, yeah, she can do what she wants, I don't give a fuck."

"Alright then, hon, gimme a sec and we'll get to work."

* * *

"My head feels empty," she complained when they left.

"Probably because you dyed it blonde, you dumbass," Trevor joked.

"Trevor, I _adored _my hair. I really feel empty without it."

"Hair grows back, kid. Unless, of course, you're an old creep like me"

"With my luck, I will be."

The two hopped into the truck, unsure of what to do next. They had changed their looks enough that it'd take more than a double take to recognize them.

"You hungry?" Trevor asked. "'Cuz I'm hungry as an elephant. Let's go get something."

Wave stared out the passenger side, a sick feeling bubbling inside of her. "Sure. Ok."

* * *

Giselle Townshend was not happy.

Who would be after they had been fired? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Thank goodness it wasn't the fastest time, though. Her fastest time was five minutes.

The girl walked down the street briskly, hands deep in her pockets. Not that there was anything there. It was just a comfort from the cold wind. Of course, it'd be nice if she could hold a job long enough to afford a coat or jacket...

Well, it didn't matter. There were lots of places to work in Los Santos. Lots of people who would hire you without a second glance. That's how this fucked up town worked. Just like her.

Fucked.

Up.

She snorted at the thought, pushing up her thick lenses with her middle finger and brushing her wavy brunette hair out of her face. Then, she realized that she was hungry. Well, there was a Cluckin Bell right down the street. Who ever wasn't in the mood for a greasy, artery clogging treat?

* * *

"Wave, come on, eat up," Trevor urged. "I don't know when the next time we'll go out will be. And I'm not about to waste six bucks."

The girl picked at her food absentmindedly. "I'm not hungry."

"Bullshit, you're always hungry."

"I'm not."

He leaned back, exasperated. "You ok kid?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, 'kid', you ok?!"

The two criminals sitting at the table jumped and stared at their visitor.

"Lady, what the fuck are you doing?!" Trevor exclaimed.

"I'm Gee," Giselle said. "I like her." She pointed to Wave. "She's pretty."

"Sorry lady, I'm not a lesbian," Wave replied.

"I'm not either. I just need someone to vent to. Do you really mind that much?"

"The fuck is this?!" Trevor growled.

"This is a girl," Gee replied. "Sure, a crazy as fuck one, but still a girl nonetheless. Are you her dad?"

Trevor choked on his burrito.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Uh, Gee," Waverly butted in, "I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Our home just... well, it's gone."

"Oh... wow, that's a lot worse than my current situation. I'm sorry for your loss. You're more than welcome to stay in my home if you want?"

Wave choked on her food now.

"I live in an apartment. It's not big, but I make do with what I have. And I know that I just met you guys, but, being the benevolent being that I am, I only ask for a small fee of... oh, let's say, $100?"

"Gee, actually-"

"I know, it's crazy! But I can be a good person. Sure, I may have hit that one guy with a shovel. Then there was that girl with the baby... You're really nice people, you know?"

"Gee, I-"

"Oh, I know where I've seen you before!"

A heavy air of silence swept over the table. "...oh really?"

"Yeah! I saw you at that jewelry store in Vinewood just before it got robbed! Oh, you must have made it out just in time! Someone threw TEAR GAS! I mean, you gotta admit, that's kinda funny, but I've heard it hurts-"

"Come on Wave," Trevor choked, trying to keep his cool. "No more fucking psychos."

The two stood and left as quickly as possible. Gee, smiling after them and completely unaware of their discomfort, shouted, "Come over and see me sometime!"

* * *

Los Santos can be a scary place. And, if you're not careful, deadly.

This is the time where criminals and gangs run rampant through the streets of the successful city. The time where typical families shutter their windows and play blind to the violence surrounding them. It is a time where no man, woman or child are ever safe alone and, sometimes, even together. The gamblers emerge from their cramped dens and the prostitutes turn up their chin for the sake of business.

It is the night.

Trevor knew this world well. He was once a part of it. Sometimes, he likes to think he still is. He can be just as dangerous as the night if he damn well pleases.

But not tonight. Tonight, Trevor was a guardian. He held Wave close to him, occasionally giving her a comforting pat on her back. They hurried along the dark, cold streets, leaving the dead truck behind. It was supposed to snow that night. Since they couldn't get a hotel room, they needed at least somewhere dry to sleep.

Trevor was determined.

Wave was tired. And sick. She coughed often, nose running and knees shaky. Whatever she had, it wasn't good.

Trevor dragged her along as gently as he could, whispering soft encouragements and supporting her. Secretly, he was frightened. This weather wasn't going to do her any favors. She needed somewhere dry and warm to rest. Notonly that, but he'd never taken care of a sick kid before. He didn't know what to do.

He wanted to cry.

Everything was gone. They had nothing left because of the damn Little Cubs and their possessive tendencies. No home, no bed, no food or clothes, nothing. And, it was all because of Waverly.

What had she done to him?

* * *

Giselle loved her car.

It wasn't anything fancy, oh no. If anything, it was an old piece of shit.

To her, it was an antique.

This blue mustang had seen better days. You had to push on a pedal to get the windshield fluid to work. The AC was busted, too. The letter "N" had fallen off of the logo on back, so it read, "mustag."

This car was better than that, in her eyes.

She rolled around to her apartment complex, sneering at anyone who gave her a nasty look. She rolled into her own parking space, and flipped off the car. The musky smell filled her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply, lovingly.

She loved this car.

Of to her left, the sounds of a struggle reached her ears, and she gazed in that direction.

Of course. It was the Street Bangerz again. They were a gang that hung out around this section of town, and rape was their specialty. Didn't matter what gender you were, if you were attractive enough, they'd take you in a heartbeat. She didn't care though. Through some quick thinking and bribing, she had gotten them off of her case for good. ¢

But this was different. It was those people she had met at the Cluckin' Bell. As far as she was concerned, they were under her protection. So, from the back of her car, she produced a crowbar.

Things were going to get messy.

* * *

"Trevor!"

"LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE! YOU NASTY FUCKS, IF YOU LAY A FINGER IN HER-"

One of the men kicked Trevor in his gut. "Shut up! We'll get to you in a bit, but it's ladies first around here."

Another man who was running his hands along Wave's inner thigh while two others held her up chuckled. "Damn, you can tell this is some untouched territory. Look at the bitch squirm!"

"DON'T CALL HER THAT! You- FAAHHH!"

"You're gonna keep getting kicked if you don't shut your mouth, fool!"

"Let go of me you fucks!" Wave cried.

"Mmm, baby, you make my dick pulse. I wanna shove it so deep in your mouth..."

"YOU DISGUSTING PRICKS!" Trevor shouted. "SHE'S NOT YOUR FUCKING PLAYTHING! LEAVE HER ALONE! LET GO- Get your hands off my dick you fuck!"

From a distance, Trevor could see someone running towards them with a crowbar in their hands. When they finally made it to the group, he could see it was Gee from the Cluckin' Bell. The woman swung her crowbar excitedly, hitting everyone in her path.

"THESE ARE MY FRIENDS, YOU FUCKS," she growled.

"Shit, shit! Bail, this chick's nuts!"

The men left standing ran for their lives, truly terrified of this insane woman. She, in turn, roared at their fleeing bodies, laughing and cringing for no apparent reason.

Trevor stood slowly, his stomach in excruciating pain. "You... fuck..."

"I live right here." Gee pointed to her building. "Wave isn't looking so hot. You're more than welcome."

"How did you know my name?"

"I heard your buddy call to you earlier."

The three people stood awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say or do. As much as Trevor distrusted this woman, Wave was in desperate need of a good place to rest. To further prove this fact, the girl coughed, and her nose started to bleed. She swooned.

"Show the way," he muttered.

* * *

_Flights of stairs_

_lead the way._

_We'll be safe_

_we'll be safe._

_Warm._

_Dry._

_Tucked away._

_We'll be safe,_

_lead the way._

_END CHAPTER 11._

* * *

Giselle Townshend is not my idea. She is an Oc from a very loyal reader who definitely deserved a part in Wave's story.

-Dylawa


	12. Chapter 12: In sickness

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "I Don't Believe You" by P!nk. *_

* * *

Gee fumbled for her keys as she stared at her guests, who weren't looking better for wear. The old guy definitely had seen better days. Hell, he'd even be handsome if he had taken better care of himself. His clothes were sweaty and filthy, like he didn't give a shit about what he wore.

The girl seemed to be his complete opposite. Wave had a few scars here and there, but nothing that couldn't be covered up with makeup. Her clothes, though not fancy, were at least clean in comparison to his. And, while the older guy seemed pretty fit for his age and background, the girl looked tired and run down.

_Poor thing. I bet she'd like some warm cake batter_, Gee thought to herself.

She opened the door to her two bedroom apartment, shouting "Tadaaah!" She had been right. It wasn't much at all.

There was a love seat and an old tv, probably back from 2005. There was a fold out table with two chairs, and the kitchen didn't even take up a sixth of the apartment. To the left of the kitchen was one bedroom, and to the right, past the tv, another. The bathroom lay at the end of a short hall with an empty bookshelf and another closed door.

"Well, this will have to do," Trevor mumbled. "Can she go wash up?" He pointed to Wave.

"Sure. She can borrow some of my things. As for you?"

"I don't need a thing. Yet, I guess."

"NO!" she shouted, which made everyone jump, including herself. "You want something!"

"Jesus lady, no I don't! Wave, go shower."

"But-"

"Wave!"

After a moment of hesitation, the girl complied. Trevor turned back to Gee, who was now holding a bowl of what looked to be chocolate. Her mouth was smeared with the stuff. "Want some?" she asked with a full mouth.

"Uh... no thank you, crazy lady."

"Gee."

"What kind of fucking name is GEE?"

The woman laughed, her eyes going cross eyed for a split second. "It's not my real name, silly. I just prefer that people call me that. If you really don't like it, my full name is Giselle Townshend. And you?"

"...Trevor."

"Ask for anything, Trevor. I'm an open book and house. You're my guests, so it is my sole duty to take care of you to the best of my ability." She scooped another handful of the batter and shoved it in her mouth.

"By the way," she continued, "did you notice that nasty gash across her back?"

"Whose back?"

"Wave's. She got cut real bad."

"What!?" Trevor panicked. "Why- how didn't I see that? Fuck, I'm retarded! Wa-"

Gee covered his mouth with her chocolaty hands, shushing him and petting his hair.

"Let her bee, Trevorrrr... Let her beeeee..."

Struggle as he may, he couldn't wriggle out of this psycho's grasp.

"Let her finish showering, then you can patch her up. I have a first aid kit you can use in one of the cupboards. Now, I know I may seem threatening right now, but you gotta trust me when I say, 'I'm doing this for both of you.' Let her beeee..."

She let go of the man, who ran to the other side of the room, wiping the chocolate from his face and gagging.

"Are you fucking nuts!?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's why I'm giving you a place to stay."

"Uh... I'm beginning to question if it's worth it."

Gee sat on the love seat. "Do what you will, Mr. Trevor. But think about Wave. She doesn't look a hundred percent. I've got medication. Do you like_ Fame or Shame_?"

"I'll never like that fucking piece of shit. Don't you DARE turn it on!"

"Fine. Hockey it is." *

She flipped through the stations until she found a team she liked, then took another large mouthful of cake batter.

"Aweshome shing abou' dis cach badder... Is that it's low fat, or not made with eggs, but still tastes just as good. So, I can eat to my heart's content and not have to worry about gaining weight or getting Salmonella."

Trevor shook his head. This chick seemed pretty harmless. If worse came to worse, he could probably take her. But, then again, there were those fucking rapists...

He pushed the thought away, trekking to the fridge to see if there was anything good. When he found a package of pepper jack cheese, he took the whole package and chowed down.

* * *

_I'm so dizzy..._

_I can't feel my feet._

_My back won't stop bleeding._

_I'm cold, and hot._

_I'm ticklish, and every touch hurts._

_Trevor... Trevor..._

* * *

"... trevor... Trevor..!"

The man knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Wave? What's up?"

"I... am... sick..."

"... I know, I-"

"Help... help me..."

"... Are you dressed?"

"... N-no... I... can't... too dizzy-"

From behind the door, he could hear her vomiting violently, sobbing and retching uncontrollably. Pushing aside his morals for women, he walked into the room and helped her get on some underwear once she was finished.

"Lean on me, Wave. I'll help you to the bedroom."

"T-t-tre-evo-vor..."

"I know, baby, I-"

Wait a minute. _Baby? _Where had that come from?

No... no, Wave wasn't his baby. She would never be.

Never. Ever. Ever...

He laid her on her stomach on the bed, putting a bowl at the edge where her head was. Then, he took a look at her back. Gee was right. There was a nasty cut all the way down from her left shoulder blade to her right hip. His fists balled up in anger. _How could I have not seen this?_

"Wait here, kid," he said. Not that she was going anywhere.

He took the first aid kit from Gee's cupboard and went back to the room, making sure to close the door behind him. Didn't need psycho lady walking in on such a delicate procedure.

The kit didn't have everything he needed to properly tend the wound. He'd have to make due with what there was. First, he took the antiseptic, just like the first time he patched her up, and gently applied it to the opening. The girl whimpered and tensed up, the pain burning throughout her nerves.

"I know, kid, I know, it's the hardest part. Hang in there, ok?"

She vomited again.

After the antiseptic was successfully applied, he took a needle from the kit, then went back in the bathroom. He rummaged around in the drawers and found what he was looking for: dental floss. He went back to the bedroom and used this to patch up the gaping hole in her back. This was the hardest part; Trevor had to be careful not to pull too hard on the floss, or it'd break.

Waverly waited patiently for him to finish, still drained from her episodes. He cleaned the wound again, then began to tear up his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"There's no more bandaging in here," Trevor explained. "I know it doesn't look the cleanest, but their just stains. Well, most of them."

He gently pulled her into a sitting position and began to tie the makeshift gauze around her whole torso, being extra careful not to directly touch her chest. The girl, when he came around one time, rested her hands on his. He tensed.

"Trevor..."

"... yeah?"

"... why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you keep me around? I mean, I cause you so much trouble, and it's because of me that you lost everything. I hated you once, and you hated me, and if I were to leave, you'd never have to- to- to..."

Wave began to sob, releasing his hands to wipe away her tears. Trevor sat back, wondering the answer to that himself. _Why DO I keep her around?_

_Duh, _he told himself. _It's because you're a fucking idiot. It's because you let her steal your heart and tug on every string, even the ones that piss you off. It's because you didn't kill her off when you had the chance, and now she's turning you into a fucking softy man- baby._

But the million dollar question was: _Do I care?_

_... I... guess not._

With that answer, Trevor broke down the last of his emotional barriers between him and the Outcast, and he pulled her into an embrace.

"Kid, I... I want... well, it's... argh, fuck it." He spun her around to face him, now free of the problem of her being shirtless.

"... I... ARGH, I CAN'T FUCKING SAY IT!"

"Trevor! Say what?!"

"It doesn't matter! Go to sleep, I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

He left the room fuming, angry and disappointed with himself. Wave stared after him, bewildered and confused.

* * *

"Sounded like a conflict in there," Gee commented.

"Shut the fuck up!"

The woman stood, shoving Trevor into the wall and punching him in his gut. "No, YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M GIVING YOU A PLACE TO CRASH, AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME!? Ridiculous! Why, I oughta-"

"No," Trevor butt in, "no, Gee, you're right. I'm just... GAH!"

The pressure was too much. Trevor broke down in front of this perfect stranger, and sobbed himself.

"I-am-a-fucking-TOOOL! AHHH! I CAN'T-EVEN-SAY-I-LOVE-YOU! AAHHHH! Fucking baby! I'm a god damn fucking baby! AARRGH!"

"Trevor, I-"

"Waverly! I love you baby! I'll be better, I promise, I'll never hurt you again, I'll never, never..."

After he finished venting, and when she believed it was safe, Gee sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. Much like how Trevor had comforted Wave.

"Shhh, Trevor... it's alright..."

_And we'll fall, like the rain, in the desert: pointless weather._

_Every day, all the same, like a dream. Nothing special..._

_Only when this world ceases to turn,_

_Will I let my hopes and dreams burn..._

_And we'll fall..._

* * *

"Hey, T, it's Michael. I uh, I wanted to call and check on you. I mean, you might be sleeping by the time you get this message, so uh... yeah. Just,uh, whenever you get the chance, call me back. Tell me if you and Wave are ok... ok. Yeah..."

The message ended. Trevor was in no mood for conversation. So, he fired off a quick text, and turned back over, Waverly clutched tightly in his arms. "I... need you," he whispered when he was sure she was asleep.

"... More than I need air. Or masturbation. Or Impotent Rage. I'll learn ballet if it will make you better. Just, please... don't be sick when I wake up!"

The girl stirred in her sleep, hand brushing over his again.

He held it tightly too.

_END CHAPTER 12._

* * *

_Dem feels?_

_That's what I thought._


	13. Chapter 13: In Despiration

_The optional soundtracks for this chapter are "Excuse" by C418 (°) and "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes. («»)_

* * *

_Why does the bed feel cold? _Trevor thought to himself. His first though after was that Waverly had died in her sleep and now he was laying in bed with a corpse. But no; he'd feel her dead weight in his arms. She wasn't there.

He sat up, genuinely concerned. Wave never woke up early. Never.

He threw on a jacket he had had with him and went into the living room. Empty. So was the bathroom.

"Waverly!" he called. "...Waverly, you fuck! Where are you? Don't do this to me!"

Gee emerged from her bedroom, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "Dude, it's, like, eight thirty."

"Where's Wave!?"

"... huh?"

"WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO TO HER!" Trevor screamed and threw himself at the woman, but she sidestepped him. He fell flat on his face.

"Trevor, what makes you think I'd do something to Waverly? That girl is a sweetheart!"

"Oh, no," Trevor half chuckled half whimpered. "She is far from! That's why I... why... well, you know."

"You should practice saying it, you know," Gee said as he walked back to the guest bedroom.

"WAVERLY! WAVER-FUCKING-LEE!"

He stopped short. The window was open, and the fire escape was right there. °

"Oh no," he muttered. "Oh, no no no no no, this is bad, this is so very FUCKING bad! She's gone!"

"What!?"

"She went out the fucking fire escape! I gotta go find her!"

"I'm coming with you. You could use the extra help, Los Santos is a big place."

* * *

Wave shivered in her hiding spot, the chill air cutting to her bone. So. This was the life she'd be living now. Homeless. Friendless. Always on the run from not two, but three parties: The Little Cubs, The LSPD, and Trevor Phillips.

She wanted to cry. But she had already done all her crying. If she cried any more, she'd shrivel up and die.

She stood slowly, her bones aching. A wave of nausea rocketed through her system, and she collapsed back down.

Trevor didn't want her. It'd probably only be a matter of time before he decided to off her too. She couldn't go back. Never.

If the world really depended on survival of the fittest, Wave was fucked. She wasn't fit, and she couldn't survive.

She had to get up. She had to. People would be coming through here soon. They'd call the police, and then it'd be all over. She'd go to foster care, and then Beverley would find her.

She grabbed a thick branch after vomiting again, and used it to pull herself up. Then, to the best of her ability, she limped away, leaving behind something special to her and Trevor by pure mistake.

* * *

"Waverly! Wa- have you seen a girl, blonde short hair, seemed kinda sick? Oh, god... WAVERLY!"

Trevor and Gee both called for the girl, worry creasing their brows. Michael and Franklin had also joined the hunt, but they were elsewhere.

"WAVERLY! Wave! Waverly!" Trevor called for her desperately, tears streaming from his eyes.

"We got cake batter! You want cake batter?"

The two heard a car horn, and turned around to see Franklin driving to meet them. They walked to his car as he rolled down the window.

"What news, amigo? Tell me!" Trevor exclaimed.

Franklin didn't respond right away. But, slowly, he reached over to the passenger seat, and handed Impotent Rage to him. "I found it near the entrance to the amusement park. It was cold, which means she wasn't there recently."

Trevor caressed the statue like it was Waverly herself, then handed it back to Franklin.

"Hold on to it for me. Keep looking in that general area. She can't have gone far. Me and Gee will look too."

Frank nodded, and drove off. Trevor and Gee made their way to the park themselves.

* * *

The bench was so comfy. She was so tired. It was a gift from God.

The sky was always changing colors. Green, purple and sometimes orange. Never blue.

The ground was shaking too. Constantly. She vomited again.

Someone walked up to her. They looked familiar, but she was too delirious to place their face.

"You lost, baby?"

She knew that voice anywhere. She had heard it only a day ago. She squirmed and whimpered, trying feebly to fend them off, but it was no use. The leader of the Street Bangerz picked her up, and carried her off.

* * *

"I saw them!" Michael exclaimed over the phone.

"Saw who!? Wave!?"

"Yeah! Some dude in a purple jacket just picked her up and walked off!"

"It's the STREET BANGERZ!" Gee gasped.

"The what!?"

"Please don't tell me you just let him walk away!" Trevor groaned.

"I'm following the bastard right now, T. He's not going to get away with this-"

"You might already be too fucking late!" Trevor exclaimed. "If any of those men so much as touch their dicks... OOOH!"

"...what?"

"Where are you, friend?" Gee asked.

"I'm just getting off of 93rd."

"That's where we are! Gee, get in the car, we gotta follow them!"

* * *

Wave bumped around in the back of the van, her hands and feet loosely tied. They weren't afraid that she was going anywhere anytime soon. If only she could see out the windows, she'd be able to tell where she was going and how to get back.

But she was too feeble to get up. This sickness was getting the best of her, and the Bangerz were using that fact to their advantage. There were two men in the car, and one of them sat next to Wave, snickering and coasting his hand over his crotch.

"Might fine piece of ass we've got here, eh, Derek?"

"Sure thing. It's been a while since we got a teen girl."

"Mighty fine. She's a kicker too. Well, she tries to be."

"Makes it all the more satisfying when they are begging for a release."

"Hoes will be hoes. Bitches love to cum."

Wave managed to at last sit up straight, despite her nausea, and hoarsely said, "You won't get what you want from me, you despicable scum!"

The man driving chuckled. "We'll see, baby. Doesn't seem like you got much fight left in you anyways."

"All talk and no show," the other said.

"Watch me!" she exclaimed, attempting to get to her feet, but falling down again, after what she assumed to be a speed bump.

"We're here," Derek stated, pushing his way out the back of the van and opening the door. The man who had been driving scooped Wave into his arms, burying his face into her neck.

"Mmm, you smell amazing."

She bit his ear hard, causing him to cry out and drop the girl. She tasted blood in her mouth, and she had a flashback to when she had bitten Trevor.

"Ah, you stupid bitch! You're gonna pay for that! RRRGGHH..."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep," she sneered.

Another man picked her up from behind, dragging her into a chair and strapping her in.

"Looks like we can't afford to wait with this one," he said. "Someone turn this thing on!" _«»_

* * *

The four other criminals made their way through the darkening streets to where Michael had last seen the van. It was still there, in front of an old abandoned warehouse.

"Really?" Gee scoffed. "THIS is where they hang out!? Ridiculous! It's a fucking shack!"

"My girl's in there," Trevor growled. "MY girl. NOT THEIRS!"

"T, don't worry," Michael whispered. "We'll get in there. Giselle-"

"Gee, thank you very much."

"... 'Gee', see if you can find an inconspicuous way in. If we can catch them-"

"Oh, fuck this!" Trevor burst from his hiding spot, gun in hand, and ran towards the warehouse, screaming bloody murder.

"TREVOR, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Franklin called. Gee herself had run from her spot and was close on Trevor's tail.

* * *

Wave panted hard, drool collecting at the corners of her lips. _Damn it, ignore it,_ she told herself again, but it was no use. The vibrations were too good, making her feel like she was melting out of her consciousness. Whatever this thing was, this... _chair_... It was dragging her into a losing battle.

Almost unconsciously, she started to grind into the small hump on the chair, trying to induce more of these pleasurable feelings. She couldn't stop herself; she had lost all control of her bodily and mental functions. It just felt too good.

"That's right, baby," one of the Bangerz said. "Grind on that shit. Feels good, right?"

"Uh..." Wave stuttered.

Sure, she _knew _about sex and all its ups and downs, but _THIS _was far from what she had expected. She also wasn't appreciative of how wet her underwear was getting.

Suddenly, everything she was feeling began to increase rapidly in rate and power, and she cried out, grinding her hips faster. Something good was happening. It had to be good if it felt this way. After a few seconds, she froze, and everything seemed to burst inside her, clouding her mind with lust and pleasure. There were brief aftershocks, which made her shudder again and again, and everyone around her hollered and cheered.

_Damnit, _she thought. _Did I just..?_

From outside of the building came the shouts of a man, and another calling after him. They were loud enough to be heard by everyone, but not loud enough to be eligible. The room grew silent as the footsteps rapidly came closer.

The front door burst open, and there, in full, shirtless, hairy, tattooed, balding, fucked up glory, was Trevor Phillips, proudly waving a machine gun.

"GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BITCHES!" he yelled. He opened fire, and all hell broke loose.

"Trevor!?" Wave called out. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF-"

Michael and Franklin ran in seconds later, shooting at the gang members themselves. Gee ran to Wave, crawling under the barrage of bullets until she could run straight for her.

"You never ate any of my cake batter!" she pouted as she began to untie the other.

"Cake batter isn't the answer to everything, Gee."

* * *

"TAKE COVER!" Trevor shouted as another grenade was tossed from his hand. Bodies flew everywhere, and blood showered from above.

"I'm not sure I like this very much!" Gee complained. "There are more meaningful, productive ways to-"

"Lady, shut da fuck up an' pick upa gun!" Franklin commanded.

"DON'T TELL ME TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Gee punched Franklin in the face, then took his gun and began to shoot at the opposing criminals herself.

Michael had Lester on the line, using the old security cameras to survey the area and plot out attack points, escape routes, and so on.

Wave crawled over to Trevor, picking up a gun herself.

"No, Wave, stay out of this!"

"Trevor-"

"GET THE FUCK DOWN!" As he finished, he turned forward again, and was shot in his right shoulder.

"GAH! FUCK ME!"

"TREVOR!" Wave cried.

"Michael," Lester said over the phone, "they have molotovs! Move!"

"Everyone to the right!" Michael shouted. He, Franklin and Gee both had no problem. But when they looked back, they saw Wave pulling desperately on Trevor's left arm, trying to get the barely conscious man to move.

"HELP!" she cried. Suddenly, she collapsed herself, shaking violently.

"She's having a seizure!" Gee screamed and ran towards them.

"No, Gee!" Michael shouted.

But the woman refused to listen. She took both the girl and man by their arms and dragged them to safety, just as the molotovs came raining down.

"Get her somewhere safe!" Trevor yelled. "Don't let her get hit! Wave, wake up!"

"T, we'll get to her in a second!" Michael exclaimed. "Someone needs to sneak outside and start setting up these charges!" He held out some bombs, which Gee yanked from him.

"Where'd you get THESE!?"

"I found them around, we're gonna level this place before they have any idea what's going on. You know how to set these?"

"Oh, of course! You push... um, this button."

"... Lucky guess. Alright, I'll trust you with the job, Now go!"

Gee did as she was told, running like mad to the nearby window, jumping out and laughing loudly.

"How did ya fin' dis crazy Mofo'?" Franklin asked Trevor.

"She found US."

"Ok," Michael said, "We give her five minutes, then, regardless if she's done or not, we bail. Frank, you'll have to carry Wave out of here as fast as you can. We gotta get her to a hospital!"

"What's happening to Wave!?" Lester exclaimed.

"She's been sick for a while," Trevor gasped, trying to stay calm and awake. "She was vomiting and sleeping a lot, and she was complaining about being weak and having trouble distinguishing colors, and now there's a FUCKING SEIZURE-"

Over the phone, Lester began to mutter random numbers and equations, and the shuffling of paper could be heard.

"The FUCK are you doing! Help me NOW!"

"If her problem is what I think it is, this is the final stage of the metamorphosis! This is no problem-"

"No PROBLEM!?" Michael cried, chucking another grenade.

"None whatsoever! But, then again, if she isn't what I think she is, then she is going to die... but, hey, these symptoms come up at about this time if she is-"

"What are you rambling about?!" everyone yelled.

"She might be a governmental experiment!"

Stunned silence enveloped the group as they attempted to process the information. So suddenly, and so nonchalantly. He had to be messing with them.

But then again, Lester was hardly ever wrong. And he didn't joke around.

"... EXCUSE ME!?" Trevor exclaimed.

"Look, I'll explain later, you gotta get out of there NOW!"

"YOU HEARD THE MAN!" Franklin yelled. He scooped Wave into his arms, despite her violent thrashing, and ran out the door. Trevor and Michael followed close behind, and they could feel the fire from the explosion licking their backs. Gee stood about fifty feet away, gaping at the sight.

"... big boom," she muttered.

"You crazy fuck!" Michael shouted, "you could have killed us!"

"I helped!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

"Yeah, Gee, you did." Trevor shook his head, not quite hating the woman but not quite loving her either. "Good job."

"There were still more guys on the outside!" Lester added. "Find more cover and take them out!"

The group did as they were told, hiding behind cars and fences to the best of their ability. Waverly's seizure had calmed down, so now she was simply trembling violently rather than doing the worm.

"They'll ALL DIE!" Gee yelled as she freed a hailstorm of bullets on the few remaining Bangerz. The other men joined in too, aiming for their heads to get the job done quicker.

"Left, left, left!" Lester shouted. Trevor answered the call just before he would have been shot in his neck.

"HOW MANY OF THESE SICKOS ARE THERE!?" the main psycho shouted.

"Two hundred?" Gee estimated.

"Fuck that shit!" Trevor threw another grenade at a large cluster of them, and they all flew into the air, yelling in agony and falling to their doom. The remaining members finally took a hint, and ran for the hills.

The criminals slowly emerged from their hiding places, amazed that they had taken on an entire gang in one go. Trevor's amazement was short lived, and he ran to Waverly, who had stopped shaking.

"Wave! Wavy, baby, open your eyes! It's over now, you're all better, right? Right!?"

Everyone else gathered around, staring at the sight of Trevor hunched over the Outcast.

"Wavy baby, come on, baby, open up! A-are you breathing? Yeah, ok then, wake up, baby! Come on, T's right here! WAVERLY, GET UP YOU FUCK! WAVE! BABY GIRL, COME ON, DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

Michael and Franklin shared a look. _Baby girl!?_

"WAVE! PLEASE, I NEED YOU! WAKE UP! WAAAAKKKEE UUUUUUPPP! AAAAAAAAAGHGHGHG~"

He began to shake her, fearing for her life. Tears started falling from Gee's eyes. Michael couldn't look at the sight, but Frank was frozen in place.

Trevor stopped shaking her, his own shaky breaths becoming too much. He pulled the limp girl into an embrace, sobbing and caressing her back.

"Please, baby girl... pl-please... d-don't d-do th-this to meeeee... WAVERLY!"

"Press hard at the base of her neck," Lester said.

"...wha-what?"

"Press hard at the base of her neck. It's home to a lot of stimulatory nerves. If she doesn't respond to that, she may need a hospital, or a grave."

Trevor complied immediately, whimpering and swearing. He rubbed what felt to be the tip of her spine, and the girl shuddered to life, clutching his shoulders instinctually.

"Trevor! Jesus Christ, that hurts!"

"WAVE! OH, BABY GIRL!" Trevor planted a kiss on her forehead, shocking her, and embraced her again.

"Yay!" Gee shouted. "Happy ending!"

"Well I'll be damned," Michael trembled, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Hot damn!" Franklin exclaimed.

The psycho refused to let the girl go, regardless of how hard she pushed against him. There was something he had to say, and he needed a moment to muster up the courage. When he was sure he had it, he held her at arms length, making full eye contact.

"Waverly, I... I want you to... I... oh, baby girl, I-I love you. I love you Wave!" He held the girl closer to his chest, holding back tears for her sake.

"T-trevor... I..."

"... Wave..."

"... I..."

* * *

_What do I say?_

_What do I do?_

_How can I tell him,_

_"I can't be with you?"_

_My real parents are out there,_

_somewhere..._

_What do I say?_

_What do I do?_

_I don't really need you too._

_I want my real daddy_

_to hold me too._

_END CHAPTER 13._

* * *

_Looks like we have a bit of conflict of emotions here..._

_What to do?_


	14. Chapter 14: Jet Black Snow

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Demons" by Imagine Dragons. %_

* * *

"Talk, Lester. Speak, explain, anything!"

Trevor clenched the edges of the bed, his shoulder still throbbing from the bullet wound. Lester sat across from him in his own home, obviously just as eager to share information as Trevor was to receive it.

"Better make yourself comfortable, because this will take some lengthy explaining."

"Whatever it takes. She needs to know the truth."

Lester shook his head. "T, the problem isn't that she doesn't know, it's that I may be wrong, but there's a good possibility-"

"Lester, really man, come on!"

"Alright, alright..."

* * *

_About fifteen years ago, there were some unconfirmed reports of the FIB performing inhumane experiments on some most wanted prisoners, extracting their DNA and using their better traits to produce super humans. Now, being the hacking genius that I am, I managed, one fine summer day, to get into the FIB database. I found some thing's I'd rather not repeat, never in a million years._

_But these reports were true; there were pictures, audio files and videos documenting the entire phenomena. From the moment of conception to the moment of birth, these babies were having steroids and other performance enhancing drugs pumped into them. Only a fourth of the babies survived that portion of the experiment._

_The mothers, being criminals themselves, typically didn't care what happened to the embryos. They were promised money and, whether the fetus survived or not, they'd get it. As for the kids themselves, they were isolated from the outside world, instead being able to only interact with their caretakers and other super kids. Well, if you could call them that. A lot of them had mental and physical disabilities, and the FIB offed them as soon as they could._

_Another trait these kids all shared was that, approximately every four years, they all would, at the same time, suffer from a mysterious, incurable illness that resulted in submission, confusion and increase in intelligence. The symptoms were nausea, weakness in the legs, increased sensitivity, complaints of seeing bright, vivid colors that weren't there and, in worse cases, seizures. All of the kids suffered from this and they named it after the first subject they studied with it: Batch 047.  
_

_The kids who weren't disabled in any shape or form tended to have anxiety issues and were jumpy and... well, pretty much afraid of everything. No amount of therapy seemed to help them; it was in their blood from all of the drugs they were given. That got rid of another half of them, which left only about a hundred kids left. I know, seems like not too bad of a number. They started off with eight hundred kids, Trevor._

_The kids that didn't have anxiety and weren't handicapped tended to be extremely aggressive, and they sometimes killed each other. They had no second thoughts. The scientists behind the experiment discovered that these genetically enhanced kids had a difficult time forming attachments to things or people. They had absolutely no remorse for their actions. This was actually exactly what they wanted. A child with little to no emotion would be quick to listen, learn and comply, right?_

_Wrong._

_They were the exact opposite. When told to do anything, something triggered in their brains that urged them to do the opposite. Large amounts of dopamine were released as a result of this rebellion. Those kids, too, were eventually put to pasture._

_By the time the scientists had picked out all the bad apples, there were only four left. Four, out of eight HUNDRED. How our government can get away with such things is beyond me._

_These kids were not called by their names, but by their hair color. Red was a boy who was a tad too eager to comply with commands. He was athletic, according to his file, and always happy. He was the only one who met a happy end; the FIB actually gave him to foster care, and he made it to a good home._

_The next kid, Brown, was a shy girl, but not anxiety- ridden. She listened to the FIB very well, unless it came to something messy like killing. She wouldn't do it, and they eventually just trapped her in a computer room alone, and that's likely where she'll be when she dies._

_White was an unusual girl; she had an extreme glasses prescription, her hair, obviously, was white, and she would not stop growing. It was never harmful to her health, but she was an astounding eight feet before the labs decided she wasn't needed anymore._

_This last girl... well, I don't want to make any assumptions, but..._

_Jet Black was the most successful subject of all eight hundred. Despite her anger management issues, she performed excellently, complying with everything the FIB asked of her. She was fantastically agile, strong and intelligent. As a matter of fact... she was too intelligent._

_At the age of seven, she picked the lock to her room and wandered the halls unnoticed for about ten minutes. It was enough to peak her curiosity and suspicion. At ten, the girl hacked into the database herself, finding out about the outside world and other projects, but never about her own. Afterwards, she was always bitter and angry. She knew they were hiding something from her, and she wanted in._

_When she was eleven, she devoted her skills to breaking out of her comfy little cell and emerging into the real world. Time and time again she was thwarted, but she eventually made it out. She was caught after committing her first murder: a harmless boy her age who was simply curious about where she had come from, which she took great offense to._

_That's when the FIB decided it was time to get rid of their prize and last subject. It was a job well done, and they knew what to do with the next batch, so they didn't need her anymore. But every method they tried to put her down ended in horrible failure. She was ruthless, outwitting them at every turn._

_To trick her into a sense of security, the scientists told her that they were done trying to off her, but that they wanted to relocate her to Hawaii. This she eagerly agreed to, as Hawaii seemed to fascinate her. So, they shipped her off of the Los Santos shoreline and, when she was far away enough, detonated the boat. They searched the wreckage for days, but there were no signs of human remains. They assumed the best, and closed the case, declaring Jet Black dead._

_Of course, I personally think it was a hasty decision on their part, but I'm not the government. They probably have their theories and reasons. But, there is one last thing that really makes me think Waverly is Jet Black come from the land of the dead._

_Jet black wasn't the only one to be a clever little escape artist. There were many children going for joy walks on a daily basis. Sometimes, it took weeks to find them though. To counteract this problem, each child was implanted with a small microchip in their left arm, with approximately a three inch allowance. Some of these stopped working after a few years, but not all of the kids were tested for functionality._

_Not only that, but the kids were performed on while they were awake. Being surrounded by ten doctors while one cuts into your arm could be a good reason to develop claustrophobia._

_But, though this is all fact, I could be completely wrong. Wave might have nothing to to with this. But, if the slipper fits..._

* * *

Trevor shook his head, still trying to digest the onslaught of information.

"That's just... heartless," he mumbled.

Lester stood, heading for the bathroom. "They say this is a free country, Trevor. How are we free if we can't even share truths willingly? How can we be free if we are oppressed with lies and ignorance? This country is not the worst, but it's far from the best."

"I don't give a fuck about the experiments, but... _children?!_"

"They wanted malleable test subjects; beings who were still growing and accepting nutrients. What better option than children?" The cripple closed the bathroom door behind him, signalling to Trevor that it was time to leave.

* * *

Gee combed the little bit of dyed hair that Wave had mindlessly, watching the tv with keen eyes. Trevor walked in, and before he could greet the girls, he was met with a choir of shushes, and Gee turned up the volume.

_"... this new cult that has emerged seemingly from nowhere has been targeting several hotels and apartment complexes at random, and their members are never seen. All that we know is that they prefer to identify themselves as the 'Little Cubs'. Their insignia consists of a paw within the claw of another paw, one or the other always being red in color. Whether this has any symbolic significance, we are not sure yet-"_

Wave switched off the tv. "They're looking for us again," she whispered. Trevor took a seat next to her, mind still reeling from Lester's conversation.

"We have to take them down," Trevor added. "All of them. I don't care how, or why, but I think death would be a sweet release for those kids. And if I ever lay eyes on that Beverley chick... OOOH."

"Well said," Gee replied, though she had no idea what he was talking about.

"When, and how?" Wave asked.

"I'll... figure something out. I won't let them hurt you again."

He ran his hand down her arm, drifting over her scar, and she flinched.

Interesting. %

* * *

It had begun to snow as Trevor and Wave began to sift through the remains of his trailer, at long last. Maybe there was something worth salvaging. They both wore thick coats, warding off the unusual cold, and their gloves became stained not only with dirty snow, but with old soot and ash too.

"Trevor, you really think we're going to find something here?" Wave huffed as she threw a rather large piece of plastic from the wreckage.

"Positive. No one knows about this but me, and now, you." He, too, threw a large clump of rubble and began to sift through the now exposed dirt. "It's here somewhere..."

After a few minutes, his hand hit something, and he gasped excitedly. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled up a well buried trap door, revealing piles upon piles of money.

Wave gaped at the sight, her jaw reluctant to close. "Where did you get all this!?"

"Uh, maybe six months ago? Well, a while back, me and the boys made the greatest heist of our lives. We stole from the Union Depository."

"That was YOU!?"

"Yep, all three of us, and then some. Well, see, back then, I was just in this stuff for the kicks. I didn't care about the money, or the kills. I was in it for the thrill, the, uh, exhilarating feeling of, uh... uncertainty, I guess. But, as of late, my beliefs have been... shaken."

He began to pile the money into a bag.

"I've got someone to take care of besides myself. Someone who... uh, who means a lot to me."

"... Trevor, there's-"

"A lot of cash, I know. Don't worry, I brought more than one bag."

"No, there's something I need to tell you."

Trevor dropped the money he was holding instantly and grasped her wrist. "Of course, anything, what is it?"

"... I want to find my parents. I want to know where I came from and if I could ever fit back in. I want to REMEMBER."

All the man could do was stare as he tried to think of a reason not to. At least, a reason he could tell her. After finding nothing, he sighed, and continued throwing the cash in the bags.

"Waverly, you've been with me for... uh, fuck, four months now? Five? Hmm... well, that's besides the point. First of all, I want to tell you about my parents. Uh, take a walk with me, if you will."

* * *

"When I was born, I might as well have been a fucking dog, or even better, a stray. My parents couldn't give very many fucks about me if they tried. My dad abandoned me in a shopping mall, and my mom was... uh, condescending, you could say.

"Then, of course, there were my anger issues. Other kids, they uh... didn't really see me as an equal. I was expelled pretty quickly from any school I was put in. And, well, that evoked more scorn from mommy, and, well, it was just a great big fucking circle of life.

"She kicked me out of the house as soon as she could. One less mouth to feed for her. So I went to Air Force school to learn how to fly planes. I was damn good at it, and I would have graduated too if they hadn't kicked me out for... 'unruly behavior.'"

"What are you trying to tell me, T?" Wave inquired.

The man glanced at her tiredly. "You wanna find your family? Well, be careful what you wish for. I stuck around with mine, and look how they treated me. If yours don't even hold on to you, or are trying to look for you, well..."

"How many times do you think I've thought about that? I'm prepared for anything."

He stared at her, stiffling a choke. _No. Not_ **anything.**

After, they remained staring at each other, unsure of what to say or do. A cold gust of wind was the only thing to break the silence as they continued to walk back to the trailer remains, and the snow stopped falling.

Trevor stopped short, but the teen was too deep in her jacket trying to stay warm to notice. When something hit her back, she turned to find Trevor holding snowballs and grinning widely.

Wave smiled back. "Are we really going to do this?"

He threw another one and ran, laughing in his own coat and dropping snowballs in his wake.

He'd have to tell her the truth. But not today. Today was a snow day.

* * *

"You're never gonna catch me!" she taunted the man as she jogged playfully just out of his reach.

Trevor, meanwhile, was huffing with exertion and fatigue, his energy failing him in the cold weather and uneven terrain.

"Ooooh, WAVERLY! When I get my hands on you..!"

The girl giggled, stopping to catch her breath and T took the opportunity and seized her.

"Oh, your in for it now!" He began to tickle her relentlessly, making her squeal with delight, until she couldn't support her own weight anymore. They fell to the ground laughing, the snow tickling their noses.

Trevor pulled Wave into an embrace, inhaling her scent deeply. She didn't smell like smoke like everything else in Los Santos. She smelled clean and... well, human.

Wave had ceased to struggle against his signs of affection, but that didn't mean she received them. It was more something to be endured rather than cherished and returned. Her back ached slightly when his hand grazed over a still sensitive area, but overall, she was healing nicely.

"Oh, Wave," he mumbled, his breath hot and loud. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"... will we look for them at least?"

"... I will. I'll tell you if I find them. Lester can help me-"

"Promise, Phillips. Promise."

He unhooked his head from her neck and gazed down at her. She was so beautiful when she was serious and demanding.

"... I promise."

* * *

_You are my angel;_

_You saved me from the dark,_

_you took away my heart,_

_you loved me from the start,_

_And you were special;_

_You didn't run and hide,_

_you weren't terrified,_

_you were on my side._

_But when you leave me,_

_the world is turned to ice,_

_and there's nothing I can't sacrifice_

_to have you here with me._

_But when you leave me,_

_the world is turned to ice,_

_and I fear we'll never revive_

_the life we used to lead..._

_(part of an original song by Dylawa)_

_END CHAPTER 14._


	15. Chapter 15: Chopper

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "First of the year - Equinox" by Skrillex. """"_

* * *

Michael grunted as he readjusted his watch. In the process, a sharp corner cut his wrist and he began to bleed. He wasn't paying attention.

Trevor, Wave and Gee were coming over for dinner.

He was incredibly nervous. He'd never thought those words would come out of his mouth when he called Trevor the other night.

"Do you and Wave want to spend Thanksgiving with us?" he had asked.

And now, here he was, pacing anxiously at the edge of his front porch, anticipating the psycho and his pet. Well, that was harsh terminology, but in a sense, Michael assured himself, it was true. They were never anywhere far from each other anymore, and did almost everything together. They touched each other a lot, and Michael assumed it was some sort of reassuring system. Trevor poked her more often, as if trying to convince himself that she was still there and not a hallucination.

At long last, the red truck pulled into the driveway, brunette, blonde and balding persons in tow.

"What took you so long!?" Michael cried. "Dinner's almost ready!"

"It wasn't _my _fault!" Trevor insisted. "Wave wanted to wear something nice, so we had to drive to the fucking store and get her something!"

"I helped," Gee giggled.

"Yeah, helped slow us down! Gah, women!"

Michael, Wave and Gee all laughed at Trevor's distress, and were then ushered inside to begin the meal.

* * *

"We don't pray to Jesus in this house, so just dig in," Amanda stated as she took a drum-leg for herself. Michael served himself, then Jimmy, Tracy, Gee, Franklin, Denise, Lamar, Lester, then finally, Trevor and his girl.

Wave eyed the food with owl eyes, marveling at the abundance. There was no way that they could eat all this.

Trevor apparently disagreed. He wolfed down his food eagerly, being the loudest at the table. It was still more polite than how he usually ate, so no one complained.

"Did anyone hear about how the director for _Jade Wolf _died?" Lester asked.

"Yeah, it fuckin' sucks, man!" Franklin complained. "I was really lookin' forward to that shit!"

"Now the Vinewood bastards have gone and put it on hold!" Lamar added.

"Uh, what is it with you men and movies!?" Denise complained. "There's so much better things that y'all could be doin!"

"Hey, I'm a producer, and I take offense to that! Besides, Wave here is going to be in one of my short films!"

Denise's eyes popped from her head. "Really? Well, honey, that's somethin' else now! Oh, I'm so proud of you!" As she was next to Wave, she could wrap her arm around her and pull her close for a hug. Trevor growled under his breath.

"You're gonna be a movie star an' everythin'?"

"... can't... breathe!"

"Y'all need to invite me to the premier! I swear, darlin' I'll guide you through everythin'! It'll be like a girl's night out-"

"Let her go, she's suffocating!" Gee exclaimed. Denise did as she was asked, and Wave shot back up, gasping for breath.

Trevor half laughed and half growled. "Don't touch her again."

"... yeah. Sorry."

* * *

"... So _I _said to Henry, 'You know what?! You just need to _fuck off_, ok?' And he was all like, 'Jesus, you don't have to be so rude! You are talented and pretty, and I would _never..._"

Tracy blabbered on to Wave, and Michael and Franklin sat back, amused.

"I don't know how she stands my daughter's garbage," Michael wondered.

"She's probably learn' how an' when ta keep her mouth shut an' listen," Franklin guessed. "Besides, if _she _don't listen to Tracy, then who will?"

"I don't know, her vibrator?"

Franklin gave him a look.

"I'm kidding!.. hell, I don't even know if she has one, but chances are-"

"Stop right there, Michael."

The older of the two laughed. Trevor stepped into the room, rubbing his hands together.

"Ohohoh, you guys would not _BELIEVE _what just parked its butt a block away!"

Wave shot up and ran to T, excited not only by his presence, but by this tantalizing news. "What is it!? Tell me, tell me, tell FUCKING me!" """"

"Jesus, calm down, squirt!" Trevor laughed, sitting down and pulling the girl onto his knee. "Ok, so a truck _FILLED_ with cash just lost a tire, so now they're waiting for Triple A to come and get them. Low security, they _may _have a panic button, but, if you guys are willing to make a little extra, I'd say it's a quick take!"

"Dude, I am _so _in!" Franklin exclaimed excitedly.

"Let's go _NOW, _Trevor!" Wave cried.

Michael laid back, pondering the information. "T, it's Thanksgiving! Amanda would be furious if I left!"

Somewhere in the house, said wife called, "Who wants to play _Sorry!?_"

"Nevermind, let's book it."

* * *

Wave sauntered casually by the flat truck, tossing a bomb just under the door and onto the bumper. She smiled and waved to the drivers when they were in sight, and they nodded back. They hadn't seen a thing.

Trevor waited around the corner with the escape vehicle, stroking his dick and moaning wantonly. He started when his phone rang, and answered it with his sticky hands.

"What?"

"Oh, T, don't be that way! I thought you said you loved me?"

"W-waver- uh, Wave! Yeah, sorry baby girl, I just, uh didn't think-"

"Look, dude it's cool. Listen, the charges are planted, I'm just waiting for Mikey and Frank to get into position."

"Cool story, bro. Uh, sis. Uh, I mean-"

"You're tugging it, aren't you?"

"What!?" he zipped up his pants. "N-no, of course not!"

"Sure, sure. Listen, be ready to book it out of here, we're not gonna have a lot of time before-"

Before she could finish, the van reared up on its two front wheels after a loud boom, and there were cries of alarm and commands to 'get down' and 'show yourselves'.

"Shit!" Wave muttered. "Franklin, Mikey, get in there! The timers didn't set!"

"On our way!"

The two men entered and exited the van in one fell swoop, scooping all of the cash into their bags. They ran to the escape van, hopping in and commanding him to drive. As soon as Wave hopped into the passenger's seat, they screeched onto the road and drove off.

"That didn' go so bad!" Franklin exclaimed.

"It was too easy," Wave stated. "With my little fuck up, along with the scant amount of cash in there, something has to be up."

"Who _cares!?_" Trevor snickered. "Money is money! Money is money is money is-"

Suddenly, their van was jostled by an invisible force, and Trevor lost control. They were going to flip.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!"

But they didn't. They had been nabbed by a military chopper! And so it looked like they were going for a little flight.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!" Michael screamed.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Wave was silent. She sat staring straight up through the roof window, trembling violently. When Trevor finally took note of this, he looked to, and cried out.

On the belly of the chopper was the Little Cubs insignia.

"They found us!" Trevor bellowed

"Who!?" Franklin barked.

The radio crackled to life, and a hoarse voice shuddered to life.

**"SO!.. mmmmm, ah, that's some good weed... So! You three are the ones who have been keeping my precious little girl from me! Naughty, naughty!"**

"Beverley, let us go RIGHT NOW!" Wave cried.

_BEVERLEY!? _Trevor screamed in his mind.

**"Mmmm... that's quite a poor choice of words, seeing how high we are off- well, _you _are... off the ground. Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds and start thinking clearly before you speak up, honey!"**

"I won't let you take me in again! I'm not alone anymore! We will take you down!"

**"I can take you down right now too! It's called... mmm, _dropping the load_."**

"LISTEN TO ME, YOU DRUG WHORING FUCK!" Trevor loudly commanded. "Waverly is _MINE! _HER LIFE IS _MINE! _HER SAFETY IS _MINE _TO UPHOLD! And if _you _think any of your child slaves or FIB dick suckers will get in the way of that, YOU BETTER FUCKING THINK A-FUCKING-GAIN!"

**"Hmmm, you're really feisty. Maybe killing you all won't be as boring as I thought!"**

"Ah, come on!" Michael complained. "We can talk through this! As much as you piss me off, lady, there's a diplomatic solution to everything!"

"Since when have YOU practiced diplomacy!?" Franklin exclaimed.

**"It doesn't matter anyways!" **Beverley exclaimed**. "At least one of you knows our little girl's little secret! And, well... we can't let you get away with _that _information now, can we?"** She cackled, then choked horribly.

"What is she talking about?" Wave asked her comrades.

"How should I know!?" Trevor lied. "She's high as fuck, who _knows _if she's talking shit or-"

**"Mmmm, tsk, tsk, Trevor. Lying to little Jet Black? What kind of man _are _you?"**

"... Jet... Black?" Michael stuttered.

"What's this bitch goin' on about!?"

**"I'm going on about a little birdie who told me some _interesting _snippets of info! Of course, I had to _choke _it out of him, and ask the rest of the family where you all had gone!"**

"YOU DIDN'T!" Michael cried.

_"_**Didn't what, honey? Oh, kill your family? Don't worry, darling! I simply... um, ah... beat them within an inch of their lives? Although, I'm not sure the chubby one will make it..."**

"YOU FUCKING BITCH, I'M GOING TO FUCKING RAM A CHAINSAW UP YOUR GOD DAMN ASS!" Michael screamed and pounded the walls of the van.

"Fuck YOU, BEVERLEY!" Wave called. Without warning, she climbed out of the van and made her way to the chopper door.

"WAVERLY, GET THE FUCK BACK IN HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!" Trevor yelled.

"NO!" The girl threw open the door of the aircraft, threw out one kid and shot the next, then took over the helicopter before it could get too out of control.

**"Oh, honey! How could you?! Those were your brothers and sisters!"**

"As far as I'm concerned, I never _had _any 'siblings'."

**"Oh, dear, you don't understand! You all came from the same place, you know!"**

Wave glanced at the radio. "What are you talking about, you coke fuck?"

**"I really don't want to go into the details... it breaks my heart, really! If you really _must _know, my dear, ask your so called 'friend/father'. He can lie all he wants, but he can't hide the truth!"**

With that final foreboding statement, the radio clicked off, and the chopper's energy was cut off.

"Oh, fuck."

The three other men climbed into the vehicle as well.

"She stopped talking to us after you got in here," Michael explained. "What the hell did you do!?"

"I didn't do shit! The energy must be remotely controlled! We're gonna hit _hard!_"

"Can't you do _something?!" _Franklin pleaded.

"I can hold on for dear life! You do the same!"

The girl released the car from the crane, then pulled back on the flight lever as hard as she could, hoping to soften the blow. She had never flown a helicopter before... much less crashed one.

This was going to hurt.

* * *

The three remaining conscious criminals dragged Michael from the burning ruins, panting and whimpering from their sore, achy muscles. When they were sure they were far enough away, the men flopped down in the grass of the woods, while the girl remained standing. She bore into Trevor with her sapphire eyes relentlessly, until he finally took note.

He stood, only to be promptly punched in the face. Blood gushed from his nose, but he made no sound.

"What are you hiding from me!?" she accused.

"Look, baby girl, now-"

"Do _NOT _CALL ME THAT."

Silence took hold again, and a tree somewhere close fell, weakened by the flames.

"Tell me EVERYTHING Trevor, and it better be FUCKING TRUE!"

"Beverley, well... you heard her, she was higher than the fucking stratosphere!"

"There are three times when people can't HELP but tell the truth." She pinned him against a tree, holding a knife against his neck.

"One; Anger. Anger is the truth teller. Your walls break when under pressure, and one can't help but spill.

"Two; Drunk. Your secrets slowly seep from the cracks in your walls as your inhibitions fall.

"Three; High. It all just _flies _over the wall, floating without a care. It's like smog; you're not thinking about it now, but the consequences will come sooner or later."

She stepped back, and he exhaled deeply.

"If she was high, then she would be telling the truth. She never called me Jet Black in my whole life. She attacked LESTER! SHE ATTACKED AMANDA AND JIMMY AND LAMAR! You OWE it to ALL of them to tell me the truth!"

"I WON'T DO IT, YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

"Try me, you FUCKING BISEXUAL, CRACK-ADDICTED MOMMA'S BOY!"

"YOU'RE A GOVERNMENT EXPERIMENT!" Trevor burst. "YOU NEVER HAD ANY ONE PARENT BECAUSE YOU'RE A MIX OF GENES FROM A SHITLOAD OF CRIMINALS AND FUCKING MURDERERS! YOU'RE THE LAST SURVIVOR OF EIGHT HUNDRED OTHER KIDS FROM THE FIRST BATCH OF GUINEA PIGS, AND THE GOVERNMENT THINKS YOU'RE DEAD! They think that they sent you on a FUCKING CARGO SHIP OUT TO THE OCEAN, AND BLEW YOU TO SMITHEREENS, BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T EVEN WANT _**YOU** _ANYMORE!"

Franklin gawked absentmindedly, not sure what to make of the situation. Wave, stumbled back, dropping the knife that she held, and held her left arm.

"... it's not true."

"It is, Wave. Well, actually, we're not sure, but if Beverley-"

"You lie!"

"Well, she does have that link to the FIB-"

"**YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!**"

Wave charged at Trevor, fists clenched.

_END CHAPTER 15._

* * *

_... Uh oh._


	16. Chapter 16: Sharp

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "How You Like Me Now" by The Heavy. Start it now._

* * *

It took Trevor too long to realize what Waverly had in store for him, and he only managed to flinch right as she planted her hand into his gut. The wind was knocked from him, and he fell to his knees.

"YOU LIAR! IT'S NOT TRUE!" She kneed him in his chin, then went to pick up her knife.

Trevor had made a HUGE mistake not telling her the truth. They were both psychos, which meant that a part of her was perfectly fine with ending his life. Luckily, Trevor realized this, and he got to his feet.

"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!" He pounced on top of the girl, holding her firmly. Her hand was inches from the knife.

"GET OFF OF ME, YOU FUCKER!"

"Wave, don't do something you'll regret!"

She head butted him in response, and blood ran from his nose once again. Before she could grab the knife, he dived for it, and threw it far away before shoving her back forcefully.

"STOP!" She yelled, and her throat burned.

"I can't, you dumb fuck! You're forcing my hand!"

She swiped under his legs, and Trevor came crashing down face first, which she kicked. It was strong enough to hurt like hell, but not enough to break anything.

"Wave, stop! Please-"

She kicked him again, and again, and again, before SHE BROKE HIM. Not physically, but mentally. The old Trevor, the one who had no remorse for any other human life, broke free. The old Trevor, who took pride in being cold and heartless, reemerged. He took her foot in his hands, and broke it with a single move.

"AAAAAHHHH, FUCK!" Wave held the bone in agony, biting her lip until it bled. But Trevor wasn't giving her a break. He began to kick her in her ribs and stomach, using no mercy or thought. The animal inside of him was rabid, and had been caged for too long for her sake. Who would have thought that SHE would unlock the cage?

At last, she took matters into her own hands. She grabbed his foot and, though she wasn't strong enough to break it, she twisted it horribly, and the man howled.

In his distraction, the girl took a chance and limped to Franklin's now unconscious body, praying for a weapon of some sort to use. He had nothing, and a sharp pain surfaced on the back of her head. She turned, and Trevor's fist crushed her left eye, immediately making her temporarily blind on that side.

"YOU ARE GOING TO FUCKING GET IT!" He bellowed as he picked her up and threw her down again.

"NO, YOU!" She kicked him in the balls, then began to search the ground for her knife. She needed it to finish the job, as she couldn't break necks like T could.

He pulled her back by her shirt, then punched her back down. She began to crawl away, but he jumped on her and grabbed her neck. She gasped with fear, and fought his hands which were eager to twist her neck in deadly ways.

"I LOVED YOU LIKE I HAD GIVEN BIRTH TO YOU!" Trevor tried twisting her neck the other way, but she fought him there too.

"I LOVED YOU LIKE YOU WERE THE LAST THING IN THE UNIVERSE! I WANTED TO **PROTECT **YOU! AND **WHAT **AM I GETTING IN RETURN!? HUH!? **WHAT!?**"

Using an old technique that had worked countless times before, Wave chomped on his hand, and the effect was instantaneous. He yanked away as if he had touched a burning stove, and kicked her away.

"STOP FUCKING BITING ME YOU _**WHORE!**"_

"If it works, you bet your fucking ass I'll KEEP doing it! NOW FUCK OFF, YOU CREEP!"

He sailed in for a punch, but she side stepped his blow, and upper-cutted him. It was a simple fist fight after that, and Michael woke up in time to see the spectacle.

"Hey... hey... HEY! What the fuck are you guys doing!?"

They didn't listen to him.

"STOP! BEFORE SOMEONE GETS REALLY HURT!"

His statement came too late. The two criminals sailed off of a neighboring hill and went tumbling and crashing through the brush below. Realizing the danger the two were in, Michael shook Franklin awake.

"We gotta get down there! They're gonna fucking kill each other!"

* * *

"You thin' I'm fucking done with YOU!?" Wave's words came slurred through her swollen lips.

Trevor, wiping blood from his brow, sneered. "Never."

Their fighting should have slowed by now, but instead, they were more vigorous than ever. Michael took note of this as he and Franklin attempted to find a safe way down the hill.

"Trevor, geta hold o' yourself!" Franklin called.

"SHUT UP, NIGGER!" He sacked her in the chest, and a puff of air left her. Her hand found its way across his face, and he took it and broke that, too.

The balding psycho latched himself to the girl when she tried to run, pulling on her shirt and stretching the fabric to its limit before tearing it, revealing her bra and old scars. She was getting away, and Trevor _had _to stop her. so, he felt around for the first thing he could find, and threw it.

It happened to be her knife.

The sharp object seemed to fly in slow motion, one turn after the other, as everyone stared at the glinting metal fly right for the girl. No one had time to pray that only the hilt would hit her.

But no.

The blade pierced Wave's back, and she stopped short, clutching her chest as if it was filled with rodents. Her breathing became ragged and labored, and blood pooled from the wound. Everyone stared in horror as her life began to leave her, and the teen stumbled a few steps forward.

"You..." she gasped out before she reached around her back, and felt the intrusion. "You... BASTARD."

She collapsed, her energy spent, and drew one last breath before losing consciousness.

"NO!" Michael screamed and sprinted to the teen. Franklin remained where he stood, astounded at the turn of events.

Trevor stared back, equally shocked at his own actions.

"Wha... What di' ya do!? Trevor!"

"... no... no no no! I- she... she isn't..."

"YOU DUMB MUTHA FUCKER! YOU FUCKING KILLED HER!"

"Hey!" Michael shouted. "Let's not make any assumptions!"

Michael reached around her neck for a pulse, but Trevor didn't wait for the verdict. No. Trevor stumbled back. Then, he turned. Then Trevor ran.

Trevor ran as fast as he could. He ran faster than he had in his entire life. Faster than when death threatened him, faster than when jail was near, faster than when stuck in the snow.

Not only that, but tears streamed from his eyes. They went unnoticed as he crashed through the brush, trying to get as far away as he could from what he had done.

He had LOVED her! He had cradled her in her sleep as if she was his own! He had soothed away her fears, supported her dreams, and listened to her troubles and thoughts.

And he had killed her.

What had he DONE!?

His breath was cut short suddenly, and he clutched at the ground and moaned. The same emotion that had swept over him four months ago grabbed him again, and the pain was too much to bear. He vomited, pounding the ground in anger and agony, and his tears came faster.

"MAMA!" He screamed to the sky. "MOMMY! MA, HELP ME! MMMMAAAAAAAMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAA!"

Trevor made it back to the road, where he fell and began to sob, and continued to do so until his body couldn't handle the stress anymore. With the last of his common sense, he pulled himself off to the side, and fell asleep, shuddering and whimpering as his brain tortured him with flashbacks of what had happened only moments ago.

* * *

She opened her eyes slowly, attempting to adjust to the light, and as she did, someone blocked it.

"Gee! Giselle! You're awake!"

She knew that voice... vaguely. It sounded like...

"... Jimmy?"

"Y-yeah! It's me! You're awake! Y-you're gonna be ok!"

She couldn't remember what had happened, but it suddenly came back to her in vivid flashes of light. The glass had broken, then children...

_Children!_

"We were attacked!" The woman sat up, and was immediately sick after from the sudden rush.

"But everyone's going to be ok! I, well, I mean, you _did _hit your head pretty fucking hard, but you're fine, right!?"

"Where's WAVE!?" Gee asked worridly.

As for Jimmy, his face contorted into confusion. "Uh, maybe you hit your head a little _too _hard, Gee. Wave wasn'tat the house when it all went down. I'm sure she's just fine..?"

From the hallway, doctors and nurses could be plainly heard scurrying a new patient the the emergency room. Her curiosity peaked, Gee unplugged all of her medical equipment and went into the hall. She and Jimmy left just in time to see Wave wheeled by, a large gushing wound coming from her back. Michael and Franklin followed close behind.

"What happened?!" Gee exclaimed.

"Gee!?" Michael glanced at her, then kept walking. She limped after him. "Gee, get back to bed!"

"WHAT HAPPENED MICHAEL?!"

A doctor said, "Miss, you can't be-"

"SHUT UP, NURSE! I KNOW WHAT'S BEST!"

"Gee, go back to FUCKING BED!"

The doctors began restraining her, and she feebly attempted to fight them off.

"WAVERLY!" She cried out. "WAVE, SPEAK TO ME!"

Lester emerged from his room as well, slightly more stooped than usual. "What the hell is going on out here?!"

"WAVERLY!"

"GEE, GET BACK TO YOUR ROOM!"

"Miss, please calm down!"

"I WANNA FUCKING SEE HER!"

"Everybody stop shouting, I was trying to watch-"

"CAN IT, CHUBBY!"

Meanwhile, as everyone argued, the remaining doctors and Wave vanished into the operating room. Technically, she went in alone. None of her friends were there.

* * *

Greed is a beast, and anger is its feeder. Where there is jealousy and power, there are people who are bound to abuse it. Even if it happens to be a louder voice, or stronger muscles, it is always used against the weaker party. When this occurs, who is the one to pay the price? It is not he who inflicts, nor the one who recieves.

It is the rest of the populace who have no choice, but to watch.

Michael decided, with finality, that, no matter how difficult it may be, Waverly needed to be taken out of the equation.

With trembling fingers, he dialed the number in the phone book, and took a deep breath.

"You have dialed Foster Care Services, how may I help you?"

"I, uh, know a kid. She's in the hospital right now, but when she gets out, I'd like to report an abandonment, and get her into better hands. She deserves a good home. She's a good kid, and, uh, I'd hate to see her keep living the way she is. What can you do?"

_END CH__APTER 16._


	17. Chapter 17: Give up

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Say Something" by A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera. ®_

* * *

_"How are you feeling today, Jet Black?"_

_"... I feel... empty."_

_"Care to explain?"_

_"Something isn't right, Doctor Weston. I feel it in my bones. I'm not supposed to be here."_

_ "And what makes you think that, Jet?"_

_"... I have a gift."_

_"Please elaborate."_

_"... I remember... everything."_

* * *

"Everything?" Franklin asked.

Wave merely nodded, still in a slight stupor from the rush of memories that hit her when she woke.

"What can you remember?" Michael inquired.

* * *

_"I remember seeing things as an embryo. Since my eyes were closed, it was difficult, but I could pick out shapes and colors, sounds and feelings. They were my only company during my sentient development."_

_"Can you name something in particular, Jet?"_

_"Doctor, you thought I was going to fail. You wanted to terminate my program long before anyone else's."_

_"Your program? Jet, what are you saying?"_

_"I know the truth about me, doctor. I'm an experiment."_

* * *

"No..." Michael hissed. "That's fucking bullshit!"

"It's true." The girl's throat burned as she stated the truth. The one thing she had fought Trevor over, and she happened to be in the wrong the whole time. "Trevor was right. Where is Trevor? Why isn't he here? He wouldn't miss this for anything."

"Trevor," Franklin explained, "ran off after you lost consciousness. We ain't heard or seen from 'im."

"But Trevor... Trevor loves me."

* * *

_"Use your knowledge, Jet. If anyone loved you, they wouldn't constantly be entering and leaving your life now, would they?"_

_"I have a vague feeling that they don't have a choice, regardless if they love me or not."_

_"But do you care, Jet? Do you really care if people stick around or not?"_

_"... I'm not sure."_

_"Hmm... perhaps I need to increase your medication's dose..."_

_"I don't want to take my medication!"_

* * *

"Look, Wave," Gee cooed, "if you want to get out of here, you need to take these pills!"

"I won't do it!" She thrashed out, slapping the drugs out of her hand. "I won't do anything for any of you anymore!"

"Why!?"

"Why?!" she snarled. "**Why!? **Because I don't know who to trust anymore! If I can't trust Trevor, who NEVER lies, then who can I trust!?"

Unfortunately, she had a point. This was Trevor's first known lie to a partner in crime, excluding Wade.

* * *

_"Jet, please calm down!"_

_"I won't do it, doc! You can't make me! Someone get me out of this fucking room!"_

_"Someone get the sedatives! Put her down!"_

_"Don't you dare touch me, you rude fuck! I want out! I'm not an animal, you can't keep me here!"_

_"Someone restrain her!"_

* * *

Wave smacked the doctor away, running as quickly as she could with her broken foot to the front door of the hospital. She ran past the foster care agents, who had just arrived, and onto the busy street.

"Wave!" Michael's voice rose to unrealistic volume. "WAVE!"

* * *

"Baby girl!" Trevor shuddered awake, clutching his left arm and heaving one last sob. Damn. How long had he been asleep? He checked his watch, and choked when he saw how long he'd been out. Michael and Franklin would have definitely have taken Wave away by now. They would have gone to the hospital.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and an unfamiliar number popped up. He answered reluctantly, not sure if his voice would hold steady for him.

"**How does it feel, Phillips? To lose control and hurt someone you love?**"

He growled at Beverley, too upset to come up with an insult.

"**Do you see how tragic you are? You think you can protect the girl from me, the LSPD, the world? But who does she really need to be protected from? When** she's** with you, she's in the most danger she could ever be!**"

"That's not true!"

"**But you KNOW it is!**," she roared. "**She was happiest and safest when she was with me! Sure, she may not have had the best living arrangements, but you of all people should know it's a small price to pay for safety and certainty!**"

"No," Trevor seethed. "You're wrong. She _wasn't happy._ You made her your puppet!"

"**I made her a solider!**"

"If you think she's better off with you, you need to get your hand out of your c*nt and smell the tuna! Wave loves me like a father. She'll forgive me, and things will go back to the way they were!"

"**Good luck, Trevor Phillips.**"

The line went dead. Trevor didn't mind. He had a daughter to go get. He stood, his joints achy, then sauntered down the road, waiting for a car to jack.

* * *

_"The tests came back all negative. She doesn't have a genetic disorder of any type, physical or mental."_

_"Then tell me what her fucking deal is! How has she surpassed all of our verbal tests, and yet she can't draw a caterpillar?!"_

_"I think it is a part of her still trying to resist in some form. The medication, of course, can't be a perfect solution!"_

_"This is pointless. If she can't- or won't- read and follow orders, she's worthless. The experiment was a failure. Eight hundred kids! Wasted!"_

_"What should we do?"_

* * *

Wave limply held her hot chocolate as she sat in Michael's car. She simply couldn't run fast enough.

Michael, Franklin, Lester and Gee all took turns talking to the agents, sharing "all" they knew about the girl. Everyone had a certain degree of sadness plastered to their expressions. This was the end. Wave was going.

Surprisingly, she felt nothing. She knew it was something that needed to happen if she wanted to go somewhere better. She was leaving behind the only life she knew, and something in her didn't register the fact. She felt as though the past four months hadn't happened, and that this was the end of the dream.

It was all a bad dream.

* * *

Trevor drove in silence, not in the mood for music. For once, he obeyed traffic laws. His stomach just couldn't handle speeding right now.

The setting sun put a similar sick feeling in his already sore gut. It looked just as it had the night of the carnival, but the major difference was that the sky was grey rather than pink, and the wind blew harshly.

It was frighteningly beautiful: a feeling Trevor knew well. It personified everything in his life, and he wondered if he really wanted it to be any different.

Before all this had happened, Trevor had wondered what it would be like to lead a normal life. But if he had done so, what would have happened when Wave took his money? Would he have chased her and begun this whole mess? Would he have grown attached to things he typically found stupid and pointless?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized:

Waverly had saved him from himself.

* * *

_"Jet, we would like to have a word with you."_

_"If this is another plot to kill me, you know it won't work."_

_"We're done with that. You've proven you are too difficult to eliminate. What we wanted to talk about, however, is some new living arrangements."_

_"You want to lock me up better, don't you?"_

_"Yes, we do. On a land plot two miles in diameter in Hawaii."_

_"... Hawaii?"_

_"You'd have open space to run around in, and unlimited access to the internet, minus our database. An entire house to call home. All monitored, of course."_

_"... It is an improvement."_

_"We already have a cargo ship ready to go. If you promise to behave, you can have access to the whole ship."_

_"Deal."_

* * *

The woman, whose nametag read, "Julia Barsworth", smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that you agree it would be better. This eliminates some possible complications. You can sit up front with me, and we'll listen to whatever you like. I want you to have an enjoyable-"

"Can I say goodbye?" Wave interrupted. "To my friends?"

"Of course," Julia replied.

* * *

When the radio was on, everything reminded him of Wave. When it was off, it was too quiet. In his frustration, he punched it out, then huffed at his bruised knuckle. He stared at the "fuck" and "you", realizing maybe he should get those removed if he ever wanted to shamelessly hold her hand again.

As Trevor drove, he passed by some men on scooters. He rolled down the window to his stolen car and shouted, "Ride on, Scooter Brothers!"

* * *

Wave's hands were soaked from wiping away Gee's tears, and the agent Julia finally got her a box of tissues to use.

"I just... ju-ust d-don't want y-you to g-go-o," the woman sniveled.

"You know I have to, Gee. It's for the best."

Lester and Michael nodded solemnly in agreement, and the latter of the two comforted the woman. Wave moved on to Franklin, who was also desperately trying to hold back tears. He couldn't say a word. Rather, he clenched his bruised and cut fist, waiting for her reply.

They fistbumped weakly, but to them, it was powerful. Then, she unraveled his fist, and placed a lock of her old, black hair in it.

"For Trevor," she explained. He may have been why she was here, but she still had feelings for him. Feelings that would never truly leave.

He nodded, wiping away a rouge tear, then nodded again.

"Email me, kid," Lester said. He wouldn't look at her directly, and he paced in place.

"Every day." Wave hugged Michael tightly, and everyone heard his back pop in multiple places.

"Damn, what a grip," he chuckled lightly. "Don't break your folk's backs, kid."

"They won't get hugs like this, M."

"Then make sure no one else does."

She backed up, a wistful look on her pursed lips. Julia gently placed her hand on her back. "Ready, hon? Or do you want to wait for this 'Trevor'?"

Wave pondered the thought for a second, and everyone tensed. But, after a seemingly eternity of silence, she slowly...

shook...

her head...

no. ®

She turned, then hopped into the SUV. Gee wrung her wet tissues miserably, and everyone else waved. Julia got in the car, and shut the door.

"There goes our little girl," Gee breathed hoarsely.

* * *

Trevor eyed the hospital with eager eyes. The drive had taken way too long, much longer than he had expected. But it didn't matter now. He was here, and was soon to be reunited with his precious girl.

First, though, he had to wait for this light to turn green. No big deal, he could wait. As he did, a black SUV pulled out of the lot, windows tinted too darkly to see inside. As the vehicle turned a corner, the light turned green, and he laughed.

"Baby girl, here comes Daddy Phillips!"

* * *

_"Who are you? Get that gun out of my face, you fuck!"_

_"**Oh, honey, calm down. I just wasn't sure if you were a zombie or not. Have to be certain.**"_

_"Of course I'm not a fucking zombie, zombies aren't real, you dumb bitch!"_

_"**You're right, my mistake darling. Now, tell me... What is your name?**"_

_"I'm... I'm... uh, fuck... why can't I remember?"_

_"**It's alright, darling, you don't have to remember! You're under my protection now. You can be whoever you want! I promise, I, Beautiful Mistress Beverley, will take you somewhere safe.**"  
_

_"... far from... uh... well, I'm on the shoreline of... wherever this place is. What about Waverly? And where will you take me?"_

* * *

"Oh, shit," Michael hissed. "How the fuck did Trevor find us?!"

The others turned, and saw the spectacle for themselves with frightened and awed eyes. The man ran from "his" car, obviously confused himself.

"Hey, everybody!" he exclaimed with forced glee. "How are we all, good, yes? Why's crazy lady sniffling, did your tits fall off? Hey, where's Wave, I gotta see her and tell her how this was all just a BIG mistake." He chuckled as if he had said something funny.

Michael turned to the psychopath. "Listen, T-"

"Oh, that reminds me!" He ran back to his car, and produced a bundle of roses, grinning at his thoughtfulness.

"These are for her. She once told me how much she loves roses."

Gee sniffed. "Trevor, Wave's-"

"Did any of you get her something?" Trevor danced in place."She'll need all the help she can get to recover, and then we'll go back to the way we were, sitting and watching Tv, fighting over the remote and the porn, eating whatever the fuck we want and insulting each other-"

"TREVOR, LISTEN!" Giselle practically flew off the ground as she screamed."She's gone, ok? Don't make it worse than it already is! JUST STOP IT!.."

The parking lot was empty and quiet. Everyone stared at Trevor, bracing for impact.

"... what... she's... dead?"

"No, no, thank God no," Lester explained. "Trevor, after your guy's encounter with Miss Smokes-a-lot, and after you _almost_ killed her, we decided, as a group- all of us- Waverly deserved... better than... well... _this._"

He gestured everywhere around him, defining "this" as their lifestyle. Trevor's eye twitched erratically.

"Where is she?"

"We don't know-"

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE!?" Trevor ran towards Lester, death written plainly across his face.

"In foster care!" Michael snapped before Trevor could hurt the crippled man. "We called the fucking child services, because whatever the fuck else were we supposed to do? Lock her in our basements? Trade her off every other weekend? We weren't going to make her suffer the life she already had!"

Both men stared at each other, Trevor looking like he was ready to have a heart attack. Gee shuddered, the last of her tears exiting her system, and everyone jumped at the sound. Trevor, keeping his enraged composure, seethed, "Michael, I want a word with your ass _alone._"

"If it means giving everyone else time to escape while you brutally murder me, then why not?"

Trevor literally dragged the millionaire off to the side of the building, and only then did he allow his tears to run from his eyes.

"... Thank you, M."

The other man stared back, shocked beyond words.

"Thank you, for ruining my life, or whatever little I have left of it!"

Mikey knew there was a catch.

"She was my _life!_ She was my sanity! My food and drink, my warmth in the arctic, my beacon in the night! And I hope you're proud you took that from me!"

"You left me no choice, T!"

"No, you had MANY choices. but that's the fuck up you chose to wipe your ass with, and you know what!?"

He stepped back, holding out his arms.

"... That's it. That's how you chose to end this chapter of my life. Just like the other one last year, when Frankie could have killed me but didn't, and how you ended my last happy chapter _eleven years ago._"

Michael cringed at the memory. "T..."

"No, Michael. You can't call me that anymore. Misery loves company, right? That's how the saying goes? Well, I'm miserable, and I DON'T want company. Especially not yours. Not anymore."

"Trevor, I-"

"I'm going to be the mature one here. I'm going to walk away, and not hurt anyone here. You know why? Guess."

"Because-"

"Because that's not what Wave would have wanted. My baby girl wouldn't want me to hurt my "friends". More correctly, my traitors."

Michael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Do you think this wasn't difficult for me too, T?.. Trevor?"

"SHE WASN'T YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER!" he bawled. "How about I take Tracey away for a year, huh? One year. Let's see how much you love her then!"

They both knew he would never do it, but the message came across loud as bells. With one final choke of misery, Trevor turned and ran.

Michael, for once, didn't try to stop him.

When he got in his car, he sobbed relentlessly, rocking back and forth and muttering her name like it could heal his broken heart. But nothing could dull the pain. He swore he would have this ache forever.

"Baby giiiiirrrlll... Baby! Wavey Baby! Aaaaagffhhhaahaaaa!"

* * *

_"And anywhere I would have followed you..._

_Say something; I'm giving up on you._

_Say something; I'm giving up on you..._

_Say SOMETHING..."_

_END CHAPTER 17._


	18. Chapter 18: Enlightenment

_I'm dead serious. There's no song for this chapter. I _literally _came up with this conversation on a dime, realizing it would be crucial for the ending. Which, might I add, is very, VERY nigh._

* * *

The old woman's joints ached from their years of use as she pried herself from her cot. It was the same old cell, after all the same old years that passed by with no extraordinary event. Today, she woke up alone for once. Whatever idiot she had been sharing with either hit the bucket or paid their dues.

She planted her fat butt in front of her cell door, waiting for her food to either be delivered, or beckon her itself. But today, something felt off. Something in her motherly instincts was kicking in, and she felt something was about to change.

And change it did, when a guard opened her cell and gruffly stated, "Visoter fer ya, Mrs. Phillps."

Her son had finally came.

* * *

"Trevor, my boy!" she stated a little too eagerly after sitting at the other end of the phone. "You came to see your mother, at long last!"

"Yeah, mommy, I wanted to see ya, but I didn't have the time until now," he replied wearily. "I've been, uh, caught up with my friends and work."

Her eyes widened excitedly. "Work, Trevor? Are you serious!? What do you do? How much do you make?"

"Awe, ma, you know what I... uh, well..." he cleared his throat anxiously. "Mommy, I work at... banks."

"Banks, Trevor? As in, _many _banks. I see where your going with this, and I honestly expected better."

"M-ma, I still make good money, just like you always hoped!"

"I did, Trevor, I did hope! But not like this, you dolt!"

The man cringed at the name, but attempted to keep his cool.

"Ah, never mind. If you can support yourself, I suppose... and, um, what about you _friends?_ What have you been doing with them that prevents you from seeing your own mother!?"

"They- they help me with the jobs, mommy! And we hang out and we talk and... ma, I REALLY gotta ask you something, please?"

Mrs. Phillip's expression softened. "What it it, boy?"

"... I had a kid, and-"

"You WHAT!?"

"No, no! Not like that! She was trying to steal my money, so I, uh... put her in my own jail, and... well she grew on me. So I stopped locking her up, and she stopped trying to run. She behaved."

His mother was eerily silent, drinking in his information like wine.

"But, there are these... were these- bad- there was a gang that s- was after her, because she belonged to them, and they wanted her back. But I wouldn't let them take her. They're fu- they're jerks, ma. They don't- didn't treat her right!"

His mother nodded. This was unsettling. He gulped audibly before he continued.

"Uh, and- they blew up my house. But I didn't care, because I got to beat up a lot of them with the kid... let's say her name was... Gee, for example. She was- is- really good with a gun, because it's the only life she ever knew. And, well, my friends thought that was pretty cool, so she... went on the 'jobs' with us."

Mrs. Phillips raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Trevor had stopped paying attention to her facial reactions as he retold Wave's story.

"But the gang followed us everywhere we went, and they burned down my last home. I still didn't care because Wa- Gee was safe. You would think I would care about being homeless, but I didn't. I was just... happy to have the kid's company, because she was so much like me.

"Well, we stayed on the run for a while after that, and we took care of each other. But, uh, one day... Ma, do you remember how we used to fight sometimes?"

She nodded. "I look back at those fondly, Trevor. Proves to me you _do _have a spine after all!"

"Well, I got in a really bad one with her... worse than you and I ever did... she got hurt. It was my fault, and it made me really sad and... well, I didn't take her to the hospital, because... Oh, because I cried myself silly! I fu- I fell asleep, and my friends did it, and then they called fu- freakin' Foster Care, and now..."

He shuddered, trying to restrain his tears.

"... I didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell her I loved her again, or call her my baby girl..."

"Stop, Trevor," the woman commanded. He obeyed, staring at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Trevor, your little story there is... well, it's difficult to believe, but I know you would never lie to your own mother. I'm supposing you want my advice?"_  
_

"Yes please, ma."

She sighed deeply, and Trevor cringed. "Trevor... I have been wrong about you."

"Wh-wha?"

"In the past, I have reprimanded you time and time again, saying that you were in need of a desperate father figure. Why would you need one if you are obviously in the know about such circumstances?"

"I-I-I-"

"Stop stuttering, boy! As I was saying, you were obviously a fine father to this _girl_. Well, the best she had had, it seems. It is obvious that she could do better though."

"Yeah, I fed her, kept her warm, patched her up when she was-"

"Don't interrupt me, you idiot! Do you want my help or NOT?!"

"Yes, ma, yes, I do!"

"Then shut up! God... Seemingly, she has had only the thug life to experience, but you gave her more than that. You gave her even worse circumstances, and sometimes slightly better, and protected her from every ill under the sun. But when it all came crashing down... you had no one left to turn to but me."

"Yeah ma, but that's not the only reason I came, I swear!"

"I believe you, Trevor. Calm down, please."

His mother had never been this gentle or kind before, and it made him uncomfortable.

"My boy, what you need is to _let her go._"

Trevor's mouth gaped open at the idea. "Let her _go_..."

"Brooding over the past will only hurt you. What do you think I did when your father left!? Sat and sobbed myself into drowning!? Heavens no! I dusted the dirt off my jeans and carried on! Wherever he is, he's happier now, and that's what I continued to tell myself until the idea became reality, and he sent me a letter I never told you about."

"Really!?"

"Really. He said he had found a fine job in a fancy city far away. It had to be true from the stationery he typed to me on! He said he was rich and had a large house, and that he could never have been happier without me. Was I offended? No! I simply pitied him for his selfishness!"

She sighed, slightly lightheaded from her rant.

"Trevor, my son, the point I am trying to make is, that 'Gee' is moving on to better things! She can lead a _normal _life now. Do you really think that's something you could have ever given her?"

Trevor's brain flipped into overtime. His mother had stated what had been lying in front of his face the whole time. He had let Wave into his life hoping to find a sliver of normalcy. She had nothing, and he only kept digging deeper to try and find it, resulting in the reopening of old wounds. This whole time, when he was trying to find normalcy in her, he really should have been looking in the mirror. What he _should _have done, was give it to her, rather than trying to give it to himself. His happiness could only come from himself, and he could have helped her. But it was too late now.

So, he "dusted the dirt off of his jeans," and smiled.

"Yeah, ma. I could have."

"_Excuse me, _Trevor Phillips!?"

"I could have given her a normal life! But I was dad! I was selfish! I was looking for my own happiness, rather than giving it to her! Ah, why didn't I SEE!? But I do now! You know what, ma!?"

"Trevor, lower your goddamn voice!"

"No, ma!"

The woman leaned back, her eyes popping from her head.

"Ma, you do NOT make me happy. And if I can't be happy, how can I make other people happy!? That's what she would have wanted... she wanted people to be happy, so she did her best to please everyone when _she _was happy. It all makes sense now!"

He turned, pointing an angry finger at Mrs. Phillips.

"You oppressed me for FUCKING years! Well, I'm breaking free of your hellish prison! I'm gonna go home, and be the best person I can be for the sake of my friends! NOT YOU!"

They stared at each other in silence, Trevor laughing to himself occasionally. When his mother finally found the right words, she merely stated:

"I'm proud that you are my son. Good luck to you, Trevor Phillips." And, with that, she stood, slowly and tiredly, and vanished back into the prison, almost like a ghost vanishing through a wall.

* * *

Angry voices echoed down the abandoned halls of the building, but she didn't stop running. She _had _to find a connection of _some _sort, _ANY _sort. Waving the cell phone frantically, she searched for a signal that would be her last beacon of hope.

The voices were getting closer. She had to find somewhere to hide. She locked herself in a tight closet, her breath seeming too loud for her liking. The voices passed, unaware of her hiding spot.

She was going to be caught regardless, but she had enough time to make the call, say what needed to be said, then wait to be captured again. And, in this cramped closet, there was one bar of service.

She made the call hastily, praying to God she hadn't mistyped a number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Four!

"... Hey, how ya doin? Trevor Phillips Industries, what can I do for ya?"

"Trevor! Trevor!"

"... _Wave..?"_

"Trevor, it was all a trap! It was Beverley's doing! I'm back right where she fucking wants me! Write down this address _now!_"

She spewed the letters and numbers, and Trevor listened and copied flawlessly, though messily.

"The fucking foster care lady was with her! Oh, Jesus, they're coming! Trevor, please, I need you! They're fucking gonna-"

The line was cut off.

"Wave? WAVE!?"

He shoved his phone into his pocket, and bolted out of the bedroom. Gee looked up at him curiously, still tired and drained from the three days it had been since Wave left.

"She's not in fucking Foster Care," Trevor growled.

Giselle Townshend understood immediately.

* * *

_Armed and ready,_

_we take our stand,_

_defending allies_

_hand in hand._

_Armed and ready,_

_we heed the call,_

_to end this madness-_

_ONCE AND FOR ALL._

_END CHAPTER 18._


	19. Chapter 19: SOS

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Caravan" by Rush (The best band ever in the history of there ever being such a thing as "ever" ever) (,')_

* * *

Trevor sped around every corner as harshly as he could, not concerned in the slightest for Gee's antique of a car. Said woman clutched the sides of her seat until her knuckles went white and numb.

"Please slow down," she whispered.

In response, Trevor sped up, _and _turned on the most death metal song he could find, his expression unfazed.

"No."

* * *

Michael sat in his empty and somewhat broken house sullenly. There were obvious signs that there had been a struggle that Thanksgiving night, but he didn't feel like he had the strength to clean it. Nothing felt the same with the idea that Trevor hated his guts, Wave was most likely sulking in a perfect bedroom, and his whole family was out of town to "get a break" from the insanity.

Chances were, his wife was having another affair while his son jerked off and his daughter whored herself out. But, if that was their idea of a vacation, he wanted no part of it.

Faintly, he could hear the squealing of tires in his driveway, but he was too drunk and crabby to acknowledge it. Maybe he had imagined it.

Nope. The slamming of his front door and the heavy, squishy footsteps of his "friend" told him otherwise.

"Get off your ass now, Townley," he growled. "You should have checked your fucking sources before you go and give MY little girl back to whore c*nt drug master!"

"Come again?" said Michael as he attempted to rub the blur out of his eyes.

This enraged Trevor, who oh so "gently" yanked the man to his feet. "You gave her back to fucking _Beverley!_" he spat. "You need a fucking fingerpainting, cupcake!?"

"What!? No- no, you're lying!" the other trembled.

"Do I look like I'm in a MOOD to play this fucking game, M!? Get off your ass, grab some balls and get in your fucking car! She gave me an address just before she got cut off, and by god, if she's dead when we get there, YOU'LL be to blame!"

He smacked Michael's ass firmly, suddenly making a sound of approvement.

"Nice ass." With that, he dragged the man out of his house and into the open world.

* * *

Chop brought back the ball a thirtieth time, still just as eager to fetch it again. Franklin wasn't too sure how much longer he could do this. He palmed the ball absentmindedly, until the dog nudged him again, and he threw it.

Even Denise seemed mellowed out by the absence of Trevor's girl. She didn't preach to him as often as she used to, and he found that he had the TV to himself a lot more often than he used to when he was over at her house.

When Frank was at home, he would blare music throughout the lot and dance up and down his stairs, usually because he was going to see Wave that day. Trevor would drop her off occasionally, and they would have the best times. They would play video games, have dance offs, go for joy rides, everything.

The music still played, yes, but that was just to fill the silence now. There wasn't any heart or soul in it. (,') Sometimes, his mind would wander off to better days, sometimes even back to his days in the hood, where things were so simple and things just happened one at a time. And, when he would come back to the present, the music would scare him, because a deep part of his conscious associated it with Wave's presence.

Life was bleary indeed.

Chop growled with earnest as a loud banging made itself known upstairs. Someone screamed Franklin's name, and Chop calmed at the voice. Frank, though, groaned.

"Not now, please," he prayed.

Trevor stomped down his stairs, a gun in his crusty hands. There was an unmistakable fire in his eyes that everyone feared. Trevor Phillips was not just angry. He was _pissed._

"Take this," he commanded. Franklin didn't feel like arguing.

"Salute me."

He did.

"Now get your black ass in a car, _any car,_ and come follow me. Michael fucked up."

"What're you blabbin' 'bout, dawg?"

"Wave's not in Foster Care." He enunciated "Wave" as he bounded back up the stairs and out the door, leaving Franklin in the dust.

"... _What!?_"

* * *

The three cars: the red truck (Gee had left the Mustang at Franklin's after they retrieved Trevor's truck), the silver Porsche and the red Ferrari, in respective order, ran the roads at frightening speeds, without the slightest concern for public safety or their own. It was difficult for the Porsche and Ferrari to keep up with the truck, especially as it made random turns and stops.

"Where is she?" Michael asked over the phone.

"Not sure, M. Just gotta follow the address until we end up _somewhere._"

Gee interrupted hastily. "Chances are we're going to run into a clusterfuck of opposition. Are we adequately prepared?"

"Ha! As if I give one flying fuck about that! We don't have time for that shit! We'll just have to make do with what we've got!"

"We have hardly _anything!_" Franklin complained.

"Then make _every bullet count._"

* * *

She was shocked again, but this time, only a small grunt passed her lips. The pain was slowly being blocked out as she entered a different world; she was leaving this one, she felt it deep in the recesses of her mind. The pain was just too much.

"**I'll ask you again, Wave: _What. Did. You. Tell._ _Him?_**"

She lifted her head, drool pouring from her slack lips and blood from her nose mixing with it. Then, she spat in the woman's face. Beverley didn't flinch, even as the substance dribbled down her blonde hair.

"I won't tell you anything."

The woman pouted sarcastically. "**Oh, honey, this used to work so well in the past! You absolutely _abhorred _being shocked! What the HELL'S changed, you little brat!?**"

"Everything I've ever known to be true and good. That is, except for _you_. You haven't changed a bit, you ugly bitch." She laughed as if she had made a joke.

"**ZAP HER AGAIN.**"

The child did as he was told, cringing and covering his ears at Wave's deafening cries of agony and anger.

"I HATE YOU! AH- I HATE EVERYTHING YOU DO- AH- YOU'RE A MONSTER- AH-AH-AAAHHH!"

At last, the assault stopped, and she fell limp against her restraints. Beverley sighed and paced, until she was struck with a brilliant plan. She turned to the child operating the device, and crooned:

"**Brandon... Do you know if we have any empty rooms available? One that _isn't _rotting, and _is __very _accessible?**"

Wave shivered, faintly hearing those words past her ringing ears. This could _not _be good.

* * *

"Trevor?" Gee asked as Trevor shivered.

"I'm fine. Just a little cold."

"You should put on a jacket."

"Don't have one."

"Why?!"

"For fuck's sake, Gee! You don't ever need a jacket in Los Santos! It's just that _this _year is fucked!"

"... you can afford one though."

"What's that supposed to-" Trevor stopped himself from finishing that sentence. _Of course._ Silence enveloped the truck once again. Well, as silent as it gets when you're driving and there's no top to your vehicle.

"_Turn right, and your destination will be on the left,_" the GPS rang.

"We're here, guys. Lock and load!" Trevor switched off the truck and jumped from his seat, gun at the ready.

In front of them was a tall building- not quite a skyscraper- that had obviously not been in use recently. Many of the windows were shattered, and the concrete was old and cracked. The doors swung quietly on rusty hinges. As far as they knew, the old place was a small business office of some sort, but there was no certainty.

"Better than the Bangerz, I guess," Giselle grumbled.

"Yeah, not much improvement here," Michael commented.

"Stop gawking and watch my six!" Trevor barked. "Get as many guns as you can."

"We only brought seven, T." Franklin held up the remainders as proof. "Didn't have any spares."

"Fine. Let's just go."

* * *

One thing they did remember, thank God, was flashlights. It was darker than hell in there, as the power was cut off. They even checked the fuse box, but everything was in place.

Yes, there were desks around, but they were orderly, like they had been in use recently. Some doors were locked, some weren't. Some rooms had beds, others had... _bad _things. Things that even made Trevor recoil in disgust.

This was definitely the place. The corpses of small children, the torture devices, the fresh food all confirmed it.

So, where was everyone?

* * *

Soft sobbing could be heard from a locked and empty room. Her shoulders were sore and bruised from trying to break down the door, but something was blocking it. The walls were concrete, so no luck there. She didn't even have the luxury of keeping her shoes. Everything was stripped from her.

Wave tucked her growing hair behind her ear, then scratched the line of black hair that was beginning to reappear. She huddled further into the corner, trying to retain as much body heat as possible. The room was so cold. She suddenly felt the urge to have someone's arms wrapped around her, and with a start, realized that that's what Trevor would do if she was cold.

He had done _so much_ for her. And she spat in his face, because he wanted to protect her feelings.

_What a fucking douche bag you are. Fucking idiot._

She shivered again, afraid of the future that was so close and terrifying.

* * *

"Uh... I want to call for her _sooo _badly... none of you know..."

"We know, T. We do too," Franklin whispered. "Just hang on. We'll find her."

"Then what?" Gee asked.

Trevor stopped, obviously not having thought of the idea. "... we leave that up to her. I want her to be happy with whatever she chooses. She's... she's not mine to control."

Michael was proud of his selflessness, but made no comment. He could faintly hear something.

"Shhh!" he commanded. Everyone else listened too. Yes, there it was! Familiar sobbing and shuddering!

"Waverly!?" Trevor shouted.

"T-trevor!?"

"WAVE?!" He ran towards the sound of the voice, and everyone followed close behind.

"WAVERLY!"

"Trevor! You have to-"

The sound was too muffled to distinguish actual words, but it only made Trevor increase his pace.

"WAVEY BABY, SPEAK UP!"

He rounded the next corner quickly, nearly slipping in the process. His proceeding allies were a little more cautious, but still equally excited.

"Woof woof!" Trevor shouted. "Now show me the pussy!"

"Stop, Trev-..."

"Argh, she's getting louder, but I still can't understand her!" Michael complained.

Gee listened to her right, then gasped. "Upstairs!" They followed quickly, almost stumbling over each other.

"Wave!" Franklin shouted. "Speak up, you sissy!"

"Stop!" Her voice was loud and clear now, but the meanings of the words were sailing over their heads. They just wanted to find her and hold her again. All of them did.

"I HEAR YOU LOUD AND CLEAR!" Trevor excitedly exclaimed.

"Then why aren't you listening to me you dumb ass?!_ Get the fuck away from here!_"

This made Michael and Franklin stop short. Why would she call for help, then tell them to leave? Gee and Trevor didn't register this flaw in logic, and they continued on wards, unaware of their ally's sudden disappearance.

"Baby, I'm coming!" Trevor called.

"I'm sure you are, you disgusting fuck! Do it away from here!"

"Haha, good one Wave! Seriously, where are you though? No more hide and seek!"

"Trevor, you IDIOT! STOP RIGHT NOW!"

"She's in here!" Gee pointed to a door blocked by a desk. It took their combined efforts to even move the desk a little bit. From behind the door, Wave had stopped protesting, but her crying was louder.

"This isn't going to work," Trevor huffed. "Go find something to pry this away with!" Gee complied immediately.

"Wavey baby, it's ok, we're going to get you out of this!"

"No, no! It's _not ok! _Trevor, please-"

"GEE, HURRY THE FUCK UP!"

"There's nothing around here!" the brunette complained.

"Look harder, you blind fuck!"

"Trevor, stop!"

"Sorry Wave, I just... gah, I just want to hold you in my arms again, just like old times! And I want you to know that _I'M SORRY."_

"... sorry?"

"I'm sorry I told you all that crap! Hell, I don't even know if it's true, and I shouldn't have bothered you with that information. You really didn't need to know that, and I should have kept my fucking mouth shut, but in the spur of the moment, I, I-"

"Trevor, please! Stop! You have to _go!_"

"I know, baby, we both do, I'll get us out of this-"

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DUMB FUCK!"

Trevor stepped back, appalled by the sudden outburst. Huh. Well, now he knew how it felt when he yelled at people from their end. "Wave, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that time of the month, should I-"

He stopped short when he heard her sigh deeply, and shudder. He shuddered too.

"Wave, if I've done something else wrong, I _swear _I'll do whatever it takes to-"

"Trevor, you fucked us both, when it could have been just me."

"... Wha... wh-what are you saying?"

"You've always been there for me Trevor, but you've never listened to me! You were there to keep me warm, feed me and love me, but you never _listened. _Now, you're paying the price for it."

From behind his head, he heard the clicking of a gun's safety being switched off. He turned slowly, faced with five guns pointed towards him, being used by five kids. Two others had Gee on her knees, guns pointed in the same place.

"I'm _so _sorry, Trevor. It was all a lie from the start. I- I had no choice, she wants you-"

"You _lied _to _me__!?_"

"I had no choice!"

"You _lied!?_"

"Trevor, please-"

"You _lied_..." It seemed to be the only statement he could repeat anymore. The words ran rampant through his mind, unraveling the little left of his sanity.

He couldn't even trust his own _"daughter"_.

"Hand over your weapon and put both of your hands over your head," one kid commanded. They could hardly be older than fourteen.

This was how it was seriously going to end? At the hands of brainwashed midgets? Trevor could scarcely believe it. He never imagined it this way. He could make a valiant final stand, but he could pick out some of Beverley's weaknesses from the few times he had talked to her. She _loved _ironic situations.

Chances were, she would let Wave and himself die together if he didn't fight back.

So, Trevor complied slowly, yet willingly, too dumbfounded by the turn of events to protest.

"T-trevor? What's going on out there? A-are- you're actually doing it? No fight or anything?

... Trevor?"

"It looks like we're even, kid. I lie, you lie, and the chapter ends."

"... what happens in the next chapter, Trevor?"

"... The end."

_END CHAPTER 19._


	20. Chapter 20: Traitor in Darkness

_Sorry, no soundtrack here._

* * *

The cruel kiss of the whip attacked Trevor's back again, and, at this point, he could only whimper due to the gag in his mouth. Blood trickled from the open gashes down his back and into his underwear, which was quite uncomfortable. His chest was already raw from the numerous welts he had received the last half hour. The left side of his face was caked with dry blood from when Beverley had smashed it into a corner of a wall.

When he first saw her, he couldn't believe his eyes. She was _disgusting_. She was obviously younger than Trevor, but she looked like she could have been twice so. She had at least three bags under her eyes, which were a dull green, and they were so bloodshot from all the drugs, that they might as well have been where all her blood was kept. Her cheeks sagged from obvious lack of botox in recent years, and her pale, almost purple lips, were set in a constant frown.

Her hair was a compliment in comparison to the rest of her, despite the lack of. She carried what she had well, however, as if there wasn't a damn thing wrong with her. Because, in her eyes, she hadn't changed a bit since her days in Vinewood. She was still gorgeous, luxurious (in her tatered, soiled velvet dress) and dazzling.

Well, that's what drugs do to you.

Beverley removed his gag and slapped him. Then the crazed woman stroked the hilt of the whip, humming nonsense to herself, before she piped up. "**Trevor, Trevor, Trevor... do you know why this is happening to you?**"

"Because I'm loyal. Because I refuse to let you pull my dick off and use it as the beak of a fucking bird puppet. Because... because you've left me no fucking-"

The whip hugged his hip, and he choked back a sob as a tear escaped from his eye.

"**Wrong. You are here to be an example. An example of what happens if you try to be a good Samaritan. Do you see that camera? This video will be broadcasted to every television station in Los Santos as a warning to the residents.**"

Suddenly, the woman began snorting erratically, as if she not only had a weed and shroom addiction, but a coke one as well. She calmed down before continuing.

"**... a warning, to keep their hands to themselves. Something you failed to do four and a half months ago, when things could have remained so SIMPLE. But oh no, Mr. Phillips, you had to force my hand. This is what will happen if anyone... ah, _interferes _with our little escapade of brave, loyal** children."

"You're a monster," he coughed.

"**And society is a bitch, but I think that's something we both can agree on, right Trevor?**" She whipped him again, and it was his best effort not to cry out.

Normally, when done right, this kind of thing was a guaranteed bonerfest. But that whip didn't draw blood. That whip wasn't by the hand of a control freak who wallows in self pity and hides her failure behind an illegal army.

"**I think we'll call this first and last session to a close, Mr. Phillips. I still have three other 'examples' to record. However, I'm not _completely _heartless. I'll leave you a** gift."

"There's nothing you could possibly give me..." he growled behind clenched teeth.

"**Don't be so certain... I'm full of surprises.**"

And indeed she was, when Waverly came through the door, eyes puffy and red and wrists swollen from the cuffs tied around them.

"Wavey baby..?"

She was shoved into the room, and she tripped and fell. This sent Trevor into a rage, thrashing as best as he could in his own restraints and using every profanity he could think of towards the woman. When he was spent, his bonds were loosened so that he could sit on the ground, with his hands relaxed. The door was closed, and the lights, which did work after all, switched off.

At first, there was silence, except for some light shuffling and sniffling. Trevor broke the silence, knowing what had to be said if she would even consider breathing on him.

"Wavey... Wave, you did what you had to do. What did she threaten you with to get you to do this?"

"... she... she said she would... kill everyone. Tracey, Lamar, Lester... everyone. She said if I could get you to come, she would leave everyone else alone. Trevor... if I hadn't... how selfish would that BE? To let everyone else suffer because... because I... can't... don't want to see you hurt?"

Another loud sniffle.

"Trevor... she lied to me. She's still going to do it. I-I should have known better, I'd been trained to know better back at the FIB-"

"What?"

Trevor could almost audibly hear her cringe.

"... well, that... thing... you said... was true. I remembered everything after the knife went in my back."

It was Trevor's turn to cringe.

"You were right about everything, and I spat in your face for telling me the truth. Because you wanted to protect me. But my anger... my anger blinded me. I didn't see that you only wanted the best for me-"

"It wasn't your fault. Beverley pushed you-"

"And then I pushed you by saying you OWED me. Trevor, you didn't owe me a damn thing! It WAS my fault, just as much or more as Beverley."

"Don't say that!" Trevor growled.

She went silent. He sighed.

"Wavey baby, that's selfless, what you tried to do. I'm proud of you for doing what you thought was right. Yeah, we're all fucked, but we'll know that you tried to spare as many of us as you could. We'll die knowing you did the right thing. I'm not mad that you lied to me, I was just really fucking surprised. But now I know why you did it, and even if I didn't, I still would have forgiven you. That's what... that's what good fathers do."

There was no reply in the darkness.

"Wavey baby..?"

It stayed that way for maybe a minute, or maybe an hour. Trevor lost track. But when he felt her crawl into his lap and wrap her arms around his neck, he released a heavy breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Gently, he pulled her in, his shackles clincking and clanging as he held her tightly. He did everything he could to soothe her cascade of tears, massaging her back with rough, weathered hands, stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth.

She did calm eventually, but that, for some reason, made Trevor feel worse. She was too easy to forgive him for what he had done to her, and he knew it. When one of his tears fell on her cheek, she jumped, then reached up to cup his face in her hands.

"Trevor?"

"Hm?"

Without another word, she brought his forehead down and, with some hesitation, kissed both his eyes, drying his tears. He couldn't see her in the darkness, but he could feel her gaze.

"... tell me a story."

Trevor didn't protest, saying she was too old or asking for something so silly at such a bad time. This would be the best story he'd ever told, and likely her first. And Trevor was damn good at telling stories.

"Ok, ok, uh... A long time ago, there was a mighty green dragon named... Trevoricus. He had a griffin friend named... Frankloris and a troll friend named Michaelius. They plundered every town they could find, and they were happy. But, uh, Trevoricus was missing something... he was missing a, uh, a princess to call his own. One day, a rouge princess and some of her buddies tried to steal from Trevoricus's horde, so he took her captive.."

* * *

The outside light was harsh on their eyes as the door swung open. Trevor's bonds were yanked back up, so that Wave fell out of his lap and onto the cold floor, her head banging noisily.

Beverley stepped in, yanking Wave up by her hair. Trevor just stared tiredly, the crying he had done draining him.

"**Time to pay your dues,**" the "warden" said. Some older children came in, loosened Trevor's bonds, and escorted him outside of the room.

Michael, Franklin and Gee had already been released, and had just been waiting for Trevor and Wave. The first of the three stated had cuts and gashes up and down his arms, but at least Beverley had the decency to bandage them. His lips were dried with blood, which, if he tried to remove, punished him with stinging pain.

Franklin's wounds were difficult to see in the dim light, but most were internal anyways. He limped on his left foot, and his legs were coated in bruises and welts. His shoulder was bandaged as well.

Giselle's right lense on her glasses were cracked, and the left one was flat out missing. The edges of her hair were singed, her nose was crooked. There was a strange bite mark on her neck. Her hand was bloody.

But the level of physical damage came no where close to the mental. Especially for Trevor.

He didn't want it to end like this. Especially for Wave, who had so many years ahead of her. He wanted to go back in time, even, and change the way he had treated her from the start.

Because, in his eyes, she was nothing less than a princess. And princesses did not die in dungeons.

Trevor was shoved roughly from behind, and a hoarse, slick voice commanded, "**Move**."

* * *

If they thought the weather in Los Santos was cold this year, the basement of the building was Antarctica.

Not only that, but far worse torture devices lay dormant there. Devices that don't even have a name, they're so original and gruesome. Dried blood caked the walls of many rooms. There were remains of bones under their feet. Someone threw up, but it wasn't any of the four main criminals.

At the end of the hall were two doors that lead into what everyone assumed was a storage room, but many of the boxes had been cleared away to make room for other devices and, unfortunately, graves. And the device at the center of the room, Beverley seemed to be most proud of.

There were four chairs, two of each back to back, suspended by ropes above two pools of water. Seemed like no big deal. But one of the children flipped a switch, and the water crackled to life with electricity.

Simple, yet frightening. Not as bad as what could have been, but would still be painful.

Michael rubbed his wrist anxiously, and his watch cut his wrist again.

"You ok?" Trevor asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, just, uncomfortable watch..."

Michael and Franklin were pushed forward, and the chairs lowered. They were sat down, then tied, and then lifted above the water again. As Gee and Trevor were given the same treatment, Beverley explained the machine.

"**This was so _generously _given to us by our _ex_-friends of the FIB. I had to lay them off, they wanted too much of the cut... but ANYWHORE, this device has no purpose other than for you four alone, and for television purposes. Everything else is too gruesome for them to possibly allow it to continue to air... **"

She walked over to a control panel, and began to flip some switches. Lights and cameras rained down from the ceiling, all trained on the criminals.

"**You are to have the honor of being the first official casualties of the Little Cubs to be publicly announced, so that we are a force to _fear_! To be _RECKONED_****with!**"

Some kids clapped vigorously, obviously excited by the idea of being "famous".

"**Thank you, thank you. Now, I know you victims up there must be wondering, 'Why isn't Waverly perishing with us?' Well, I'm very glad you asked! Bring her to me!**"

Despite her best efforts, Wave was brought face to face with the walking drug disposal. At first, the woman squished her cheeks and cooed to her like she was talking to a baby. Then, she was slapped hard enough to break skin.

"NO!" Trevor roared.

"**As you all my know, Waverly was once one of us! A comrade we looked up to, supported! But she was corrupted! She learned of the ways of greed and knowledge, and she was poisoned!**" Some kids booed and cussed at their old ally. "**She threatens to bring back with her the scourge of intelligence and want! Now, of course, typically, we kill one with too much knowledge, but Waverly needs a stronger punishment. For, she has been conspiring with the enemy!**"

Garbage and bones flew in the girl's direction, and Trevor turned away. He couldn't stand to see her tormented like this.

"**Such acts of betrayal will NOT be tolerated! Today, I present to you a new method of punishment, and, hopefully, the only time I will have to use it. It's heartless! It's dastardly! It will make you want to SCREAM!**"

The kids cheered again, excited for the reveal of torture. Beverley shoved Wave up to the console that controlled the machine, and held her there by her hair.

"**Waverly 'Phillips', YOU will be the one to send your 'allies' to their doom. YOU WILL PUSH THE BUTTON!**"

The responding cheers were horrendous. They called like animals, cheering their leader on, and begging for the execution to proceed.

The sound was lost to Trevor and Wave, who could only stare at each other as the blood rushed to their ears, and their consciousness's screamed for salvation.

_Jesus Christ, save her from this_, Trevor prayed.

Wave's hand was forced above her head, as if she was acknowledging the crowd. Beverley leaned in close to her ear, and hissed:

"**You've been destined to do this your whole life, you insufferable traitor. You betrayed your country, your family, and now, your friends. Fulfill your destiny, 'Jet Black'. _Push the_**_ **button.**"_

_END CHAPTER 20_


	21. Chapter 21: Traitor in Light

_I've got A LOT to say._

_First of all, my older brother, who I'm reading the story to, thinks Wave is a bitch. He doesn't like her. Have anything to say about that?_

_Second on the agenda, I'd like to state that Beverley's dialogue is bold to emphasise that it is her speaking. She isn't just another criminal to these guys. To them, she's Satan's wife._

_Well. All pleasantries aside..._

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is... bear with me on this... "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus. Yes, I know she's turned into a stupid, brainless, twerking bitch, but does that necessarily make her music bad? Also, the song fits unseemingly well here._

_Besides, it's an __**optional**__ soundtrack. So go wild, listen to Linkin Park, Van Halen, My Little Pony, I don't care. If it enhances your experience, so be it. ^_

_The second soundtrack is "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" remix by Fendbrothers. ¥_

* * *

The deafening roars at last died down to soft, enthusiastic cheers as Waverly stepped up to the control panel of the machine that would drop her only true friends to their dooms. Beverley stood close behind her, her rotting breath making the hairs on her neck curl.

"**Go on, child. You know you want to. It's in your blood to be nasty, heartless and cruel. You can reawaken that if you just push the button. You can have that _power_ again! To be emotionless is to be a** _demigod_."

Michael, Franklin, Trevor and Giselle all stared with aching anticipation at their girl. What was Beverley telling her? Was she casting the girl under her spell again? Their thoughts were answered as the girl rested a single finger on the button, fingering the ridges nervously.

"Wave, don't!" Michael screamed. "You're above this!"

"If ya even jus' do DIS fo' us, jus' don' push da button, hell, I'd die in a fuckin' heartbeat if it wasn't you!" ^

Gee simply stared, mind in a far off place. She was good at that; blocking out reality when she needed to. If things went well for her, she wouldn't even be aware of being electrocuted to death and drowning at the same time.

But Trevor was well aware of his current situation. He simply didn't care anymore. Wave was smart for her age. She would know what was best for everyone. So, if she decided to drop them, so be it. As long as she was satisfied with her decision, he would be happy for her. Funny, how his train of thought had changed in less than half a year all because of a few measly twenty-five grand and some unruly kids.

"Hey kid!" he shouted, suddenly aware of something. Wave glanced up at him.

"How 'bout some baseball?"

She looked around, then saw what he was referring to. Other kids were looking around as well, unsure of what he was talking about. But Wave knew perfectly well, and played it off like it was nothing.

"Trevor, I'm done, ok?"

His face fell, digesting her words quickly.

"I'm done dealing with this... _all of this_. It's wrong. It's disgusting. It's inhumane. Everything we ever fought for was for what? A few grand? It's nothing to me."

Her hand... _left _the button!

"So I'm ending it RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" To her right was a kid with a baseball bat. She kicked him in his gut, took the weapon from him, and smashed the control panel with all her might.

"**NO, YOU FOOL!**"

Wave hit Beverley in the head, and the woman sprawled out on the ground, head gushing. Other kids, who hadn't come prepared with firearms, answered the call of duty and began swarming Wave.

"Fuck yeah!" Trevor howled. "That's my girl!" Michael and Franklin wooted too, and that brought Gee back to reality.

"Huh? What's happening? I can't see with my fucked up glasses! Tell me!"

Wave sailed over the busted machinery into the center of the room and picked up a crowbar someone had dropped.

"Watch your head!" she screamed as she hit someone in the neck hard enough to partially decapitate them. Blood spurted all over her, but she didn't give a single fuck, she was in the fucking ZONE! She had never felt more alive in her life! This is what she loved, and always would.

More kids came closer, but something in her blood was awakening, something that was in her genetic code. Something that had lain dormant until now. Her ancestors were crying for blood, and she felt it. She felt as though her strength was multiplying exponentially, and she swung harder than ever. Bones cracked with every swing she dealt, and the floor was littered with the injured and the dead.

"I said it befo', and I say it again: That chick is a SCARY MOFO'!" Franklin cried.

"That's OUR scary motherfucker!" Michael cheered.

"DON'T CALL HER THAT," T commanded.

Wave, in a period of relative calm, saluted Trevor Phillips of Trevor Phillips Enterprises, and his heart leaped for joy.

_That's MY motherfucker. Not theirs. Chances are she WAS when she was born. I bet she was a FIGHTER. _Oh, how he _wished _he could have been there! In a fit of excitement, he began to fight his bonds, only to discover that they were actually somewhat loose.

"Gee! Shuffle around, let's see if we can get this shit off!"

Wave paid no mind to his sudden movements. She was too focused on trying not to be overwhelmed. In a way, though there were HUNDREDS of other kids, it seemed to be an equal match. That is, until Beverley got involved. She held a heavy metal rod, and charged at frightening speeds towards the teen. Wave had only enough reaction time to shield herself with her own weapon.

"**Come give me a hug,**" the woman sneered.

Wave had only slightly more energy than Beverley, but the older woman compensated with skill. It quickly turned into a grudge match between the bad and the worst. Though some kids occasionally jumped in, Wave fended them off to the best of her ability.

"**You should have- LISTENED- to me!**" She enunciated the word as she struck the crowbar from Wave's hand.

"**You should have remained with- US!**" Wave was shoved down to her back.

"**You should have KILLED HIM WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!**" Her chest was struck, and there were three loud cracks, then a murderous scream of pain. The scene was blocked from Trevor's view, but he was smart enough to infer what had happened.

"WAVEY BABY!" he shrieked. He struggled more than he ever had before, and Gee did her best to keep up with him.

Wave clambered to her feet, struggling for air, and swung into the woman's arm. There wasn't enough energy left in her after that crucial blow, and she was thrown down again. She rolled to the side, but was kicked back by a nine year old boy.

"You bitch!" Michael cried as the bar was brought down again on her leg. "Stop! Just fucking stop!"

But Beverley was deaf to their pleas. Even the "great" leader of the Little Cubs can be bested by revenge and unreasonable brutality. With every scream the girl gave, she saw flashes of her mother, a long time ago, as she beat her to death as well. This only fueled her rage, and she struck the same leg again, determined to splinter it into fragments.

"Fucking STOP!" Trevor commanded. "I'm going to cut your head off and hang it over my mantelpiece!"

Beverley merely replied, "**Cliche.**" Then, she hit Wave right on her breasts, and the teen saw stars and a suspicious light in front of her eyes. She heaved a breath shakily, turned her head, and held out her hand.

For her father.

The world stopped for Trevor with this small movement of acknowledgement. He could read it in her eyes. _She wanted him_. She wanted HIM!

His pride swelled, his mind reeled, and the ropes were inches away from coming off. _Just a little more, before it's too late!_ he mentally pleaded. He felt the rope snap as it came over the headboard of the chair.

"You... are NOT... GOING... TO GET AWAY... WITH THIS!" The ropes fell off of his shoulders, and he leapt with unknown grace onto Beverley, tumbling her off to the side and grabbing Wave's crowbar.

"NOBODY TOUCH HER!" He bellowed, his chest swelling like an ape defending its territory. He upper cutted a young girl and stabbed another with the edge of the weapon. Many kids screamed, not accustomed to fighting older, stronger opponents, but they rushed in anyways. He swatted them away like they were flies.

Beverley stood quickly, grasping Trevor's weapon as he raised it above his head, then kicked him away. She used his own strength against him, dodging his brute-like, clumsy charges and wearing him out.

"**This could have been easy, Phillips!**" She smacked him upside the head with the blunt side.

"Yeah, it could have!" He punched her in her gut. "But what fun would that be!?"

Something clung to his back and he fell backwards. This was the disadvantage here. Whoever was taller was stronger, and oh, Beverley had a lot of strength to use. She relentlessly pounded on him until his vision went blury. Gee tried to answer the call, but she was squashed like a dog under a car by the mass of children.

"Trevor, come on!" Michael encouraged. "Sock it to her!"

But it was too much even for Trevor to handle. His vision darkened, and with the last of his consciousness, he spat in her face, yanked on her hair, and faintly muttered:

"You... no matter-WHAT- you do... you'll never..."

She punched him out. All was black.

* * *

"That's it," Franklin sniffled. "It's over."

Michael didn't want to respond to the bleak, yet true thought. Gee had been carried off to who knows where, and likely wasn't coming back. Beverley had gone to do who knows what with her wounds. Wave had taken her place in the chair above the water, and Trevor had been replaced in his spot as well. They were all alone.

The console may have been broken, but that didn't mean the machine still didn't work. Some of the smarter kids had rigged the thing to the large clock on the opposite wall. When it struck midnight, the chairs would fall, and it would be all over. A wet, tingly, muscle-spasming death.

"Ungh..." Trevor grunted as he came back to reality. "Wa- Wave? Wave!"

"I'm... I'm here." she choked behind a pained voice. Her hand searched for his, and he took it, as they sat back to back.

"Good!" Michael exclaimed. "Now, we can all OFFICIALLY die together!.. I know, sounds douchebaggy, but I'm being serious. If this is the way it's gonna be, well... If you guys are in it, It's in my top five ways to die." His watch cut into him again, and he grunted.

"Me too," Frank added.

"Me three," said the teen.

"Nope." Trevor muttered. "This IS how I want to die. With the knowledge that we fought to the very last second, with all we had, AND that we're all here... fucking paradise."

No one could argue with that. It was a consoling thought, and suddenly, they were looking forward to it, in a sense. Of course, life was _always _the better choice, but you take what you're given.

For the next half hour, the men went over past times and heists spent, laughing and arguing as if they were at a bar and not hanging over the Underworld. Wave jumped in when they finally got back to the present, and for a moment, the memories were all there were.

But eventually, you run out of those. The silence came back as quickly as it had left, and Trevor cleared his voice.

"When do we fall?" Trevor asked.

"When it's time," Michael replied. "Midnight, to be exact. If you're so interested, there's a clock over-"

"Say that again," Wave stuttered.

"What? 'Midnight'?"

"No, no! After that!"

"...'There's a clock'-" ¥

"Clock, clock, fucking CLOCK" She struggled in her seat, swinging her legs back and forth.

Trevor stiffened, uncertain. "Uh... what are you doing?"

"Shut up and help me swing! Michael, Franklin, swing towards us!"

"What ARE you doing?" Frank asked.

"Michael's _watch! THE WATCH, MICHAEL!_"

He stared straight at Trevor, who was across from him, confused. Then, it struck him.

"The _corner!_" The sharp corner could cut though the rope!

"Yes! Now swing your fat ass over here!" she commanded.

"Oh, now he's got _you _saying it?!"

Trevor laughed and started swinging as well.

"As soon as you and T get close enough, you need to hold on to each other somehow, then twist so that the watch rubs up against the rope."

The chairs slowly gained momentum, and after what seemed to take forever, Michael and Trevor were close enough to brush toes.

"Almost... got it!" the psychopath huffed.

"Come on, T," Michael taunted, "Stretch those baby legs for me."

"Where are you coming up with _that _crock of shit!?"

"Just shut up and keep at it!"

The next swing was the key. The two men locked legs, and held on for dear life.

"Trevor," Wave continued, "Do you think you can move us around? And Michael, can you grab the legs of our chairs or something?"

The two men both said they would try, and the teen growled. Try was not good enough. Regardless, after some careful maneuvering, Michael's watch came flush with the rope tying father and daughter together. The older man shifted in his seat, trying to cut the rope.

"I-it's no use! The edge is on the inside!"

"Oh, no it's not!" Trevor took the millionaire's hand and twisted it in painful ways, until the sharp edge began to saw through the rope.

"Gah! T! You're gonna break my fucking hand!"

"Would you rather _die__?__" _Franklin reminded him.

Wave took a deep breath of air, cringing from her broken ribs. "How fast do you think you can get through that?"

"From the looks of it," T said, "Three minutes."

"Don't mean to burst your bubble, but we only have two!"

That sent everyone into panic mode, and Trevor _did _break Michael's hand while sawing though the rope. He did his best not to complain, but it hurt like _hell_.

"Ugh! H-hurry!" he whimpered.

"Trevor, pull against the rope! Maybe when it gets thin enough, we can break out."

The man did as he was told, and Wave did too.

"One minute!" Franklin exclaimed.

"Come on, T!" Michael gasped as a muscle was torn. "You're tough! You can do this!"

"I don't exactly have the best fucking angle, Mikey!"

"Who wants to be sushi!? 'Cause we're gonna be in thirty seconds!" Wave reminded everyone. At the same moment, the rope broke, and Wave tumbled out of her chair onto the concrete, barely missing the pool. Another rib cracked, but she was already in too much pain to notice.

"T-t-trev-v-or!"

The psychopath abandoned his chair, swinging back with Michael and Franklin to their side, and began to untie their rope.

"Fifteen, T!"

"I'm trying!"

"Ten!" Waverly called.

"Thanks, sweetie, don't need the constant update!"

The rope became loose enough to pull over their heads, but that threw them off balance, All three men tumbled off and were heading straight for the electrified pool.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Head over heels, spinning out of control, fleeting glimpses of the girl on the concrete floor. Final memories, bittersweet. How they had come so close!

Franklin splashed into the pool first, and Michael and Trevor shortly after. There were no painful screams or sporadically thrashing, burning bodies. There was... nothing. It was just a pool of water.

Moments after, the lights went out, leaving Wave in pitch blackness. It was a power outage!

"Phlaw!" Michael gulped for air as he emerged from the water. "Can't see a damn thing!"

"Wha' da hell happened?!"

"It's a power out!" Wave exclaimed. "Get out of there before the power comes back on!"

When they all found each other in the darkness, it was a wet, joyful reunion. But there was one body missing.

"Where's Trevor?" the teen asked woridly.

"Right here, sweetheart." His voice came from behind her, and he rested a wet hand on her shoulder. "Always will be, and don't you ever fucking forget it.."

The lights came back on, and Trevor and Wave's wounds were easy to see now. One side of the girl's body seemed caved in, likely from her broken ribs. Something rattled every time she inhaled. Her right eye was black. Her leg was bent at where there wasn't a joint. Tears had mixed with her blood, so that there were pink streaks down her face.

Trevor wasn't looking much better. His jaw hung slightly limp, though it wasn't broken, and his mouth was filled with blood. A section of his "Cut Here" tatoo _was _cut. The lower half of his shirt was drenched in blood. And that all added to his previous wounds. Michael and Franklin looked healthy in comparison.

But neither the girl nor the man took the time to notice. They hugged gently, then he said, "Let's get the hell out of this Nazi camp."

"We can't do that, T," she said. "We need to stop this once and for all."

"Look, I don't know if you noticed, but we're not in the best shape."

"Trevor, this is our only chance! She made the mistake of bringing us here. They relocate every month or two. If we don't strike now, then when will we? A year? Ten? How many more families will be hurt by then?"

Michael butted in. "Wave, you came _this close _to kicking the bucket. You really want to tempt death again?"

Trevor took her broken hand - the one he had broke- in his.

"I can't lose you, baby girl."

She squeezed his hand.

"You won't."

Trevor- her father- smiled.

"Let's go kick some ass, then."

_END CHAPTER 21._

* * *

_I know, the song's not over, but the chapter's long enough as it is._

_I don't know, imagine they're walking down a hall in slow motion or something. Derp._


	22. Chapter 22: Full Circle

_Huh... it's the one month anniversary since I started this... In reality, I was hoping to finish it today, but my computer's busted, and it takes forever type this shit on my phone. Also, there's, like, two more chapters AT LEAST._

_Oh well. make the bittersweetness last longer, I guess._

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Sail" by AWOLNATION, but the White Noise remix. ™_

_I've reedited this chapter like, three times now. Oh well._

* * *

A lone figure sat nonchalantly in the rafters of the old building, waiting. For what, he didn't know, but he was told by his employer to be there.

It seemed as though old scars weren't scars after all, he had said. It was only a scab, and someone had picked it open. Well, damn them. They'd been watching this gang for some time now, and tonight, something different had happened. The audio from the old cameras had picked it up, and they wanted someone there.

Because they had heard a familiar voice. A voice that should be at the bottom of the sea.

* * *

"We'll focus on finding Gee after we take Beverley down," Michael said. "It's not a good idea to go searching for a prisoner if you just finished being one."

Wave limped along, her leg once again braced by Trevor's handiwork, just like that first night four months ago. Nothing else could really be done, but it was good for now.

"She's mine," the teen growled.

"You're in no shape!" Trevor protested. "I'll do it, for the both of us. AND-" he cut her off before she could argue, "- I'll let you get in the final blow."

This satisfied her, and they finally emerged from the basement, guns in hand from raiding the storage.

There were a few kids up there, but they were shot down quickly. The noise, however, alerted other kids, who alerted each other, and before the trio and teen could make another kill, Beverley had already been notified.

To this, she simply ordered, "**Kill them. If you see anything that remotely resembles a grown man and a blonde, short haired girl, don't be afraid to shoot.**"

It was no use; the criminals pushed through, following the flow of kids all the way back to her office.

The door was barricaded shut from the inside: They needed to find another way in. The office was on the top floor of the building, so going around wasn't an option. And, whatever she had blocked the door with, it was too heavy to move.

Trevor banged on the door. "Beverley, get your scrawny ass out here and let me fuck you!"

"**I need backup! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU BRATS?!**"

Wave kicked the door with her good foot. "It's over, 'mistress'! You've got no where to go! Get out here, and _maybe _I'll let you kiss my ass before I give you your ticket to Hell!"

Laughter rung from behind the door. "**You HONESTLY think you've won in any shape or form? It's not over until the caged bird flies!**"

The door was pelted with bullets from the other side, and everyone bolted out of the way. After, the door swung loosely on its hinges. The woman had gone up the fire escape.

"Get up there!" Franklin commanded. Then he cried out, a strangled gasp from his lips, and backup had finally arrived. He'd been shot in the back. ™

"Shit, everyone get in office!" Michael grabbed Franklin by his shoulders and dragged him in, while Wave and Trevor covered him. "Frank! You gonna be ok?"

"Shit, dawg," he gasped. "Hurts like a bitch!"

Michael and Trevor shared a look. Someone had to stay behind to look out for Frankie.

"Wave wants to go up there," Michael stated, "and she can't go up there alone."

Trevor's instincts flared into action. The last time he'd left Michael, he hadn't seen him again for ten years, mourning for him and living in squalor. But things were different now, right?

"You'll be ok? Promise, Townley."

"I'll suck you off if I'm wrong," he offered.

"You suck at blow jobs!" Trevor yelled.

"How would you know that?" Wave and Franklin asked.

Michael stuttered for an answer, his cheeks turning bright red. Trevor jumped in before it could get too awkward.

"You know what? Doesn't matter. Wave, follow me. We'll get that bitch! Teach her what she's fucking worth!"

The man and girl jumped out the window and clambered up the fire escape. Franklin stared at Michael as he reloaded his gun.

"Was he serious about you sucking 'im off, man?"

"Not now, Frank."

Michael really had no idea if he would be alright. Yeah, he was dealing with kids, but kids that were trained to use weapons.

So, he fired again.

* * *

The roof was relatively flat, so it was easy to pick out what didn't belong.

Beverley stood at the other edge of the building, gun in hand, along with several grenades and other various gadgets. Her look was enough to phase even Trevor, but he quickly got used to it.

"**What do you think killing me will accomplish, eh? What are you idiots striving for? Revenge? Redemption? Do you think it'll make you a better person? You still won't be any better than the rest of the trash in this city! I'M creating a bright future! A future without crime! But all empires start small! We had to acquire weapons and followers- if anything, I'M the best of us here!**"

"Did you stuff a joint in your brain too?" Trevor shook his head. "Because I think you smoked away all your common sense, you dumb bitch!"

Wave stepped in. "Don't try to justify all the wrong you've done, Beverley. Nothing you can say will change what you've done. You've taken innocent children from their families and turned them into monsters. You exploited th FIB to your horrendous ways, destroyed countless residencies just looking for us, tore me and Trevor apart,.and you think that you can just _smooth talk _your way out of this?"

The drug addict shrugged. "**It was worth a try.**"

"No! Bad woman!" Trevor scolded her as if scolding a dog. "Do you want to get fixed? If you do, then KEEP FUCKING WITH ME!"

That was the wrong choice of words. The woman smiled a yellowed, disgusting grin and spat, "**Gladly.**"

She pulled the plug on a grenade and chucked it towards them. They had just barely enough time to spring out of the way of the blast.

Wave seeped venom from her veins. "Shit! Mother fucker!"

"Don't even THINK about bailing on us, you bitch!"

A crazed laugh echoed across the rooftops, and it wasn't Trevor's. It was shrill and loud, like a low pitched whistle. Another grenade sailed over Trevor's head, and he rolled next to Wave, out of the way.

"**I don't CARE if I die anymore! All I want is to see one of you dead. At least one, so I can tear apart all that you love!"**

She opened fire on the air vent Trevor was cowering behind, and he moved again. Wave peered over her blockade and shot at Beverley. She missed, reached to reload, and realized she was out of bullets.

"Oh, shit!"

"Out ALREADY?!"

"I've been using it a lot, ok?!"

The crazed laugh rang along the rooftop again.

"**If I heard what I think I just heard, then this is going to be easy!**" The woman fired again, and threw another grenade.

"What do we do?!" Wave shouted after the grenade went off.

Trevor sat in place, a bewildered look on his face. He wasn't doing very good on ammo himself, and Beverley was loaded.

_Ok, think T, think. What's this bitch got to lose? She was an actress, addicted to drugs... Actress... Acting, Acting!_

"One of us needs to distract her," he decided. If we can get close enough...

* * *

Franklin shot again from the wall he was up against, jumping when the shotgun had more kick than he had anticipated. Part of the problem was that he couldn't feel his legs, but he wasn't concerned about that. He needed to keep those damn kids away.

"I need more ammo!" he exclaimed to Michael. The older man passed him the bullets wordlessly. Franklin took a glance at his friend, then did a double take.

He was crying.

Michael was crying. He couldn't stand this sight. Yes, they were trying to kill him, but they were _kids._ It's a little difficult to feel so heartless when you've got some of your own. Not only that, but he'd seen what they could do. They were stronger than the average child, faster. He could see it in their eyes. They had something similar to Wave.

They must be rejects of the batches that came after her.

Michael was killing a whole generation of parentless, heartless kids. Maybe even more than that. Governmental rejects that had never known true joy, or had a mom or dad to look up to. Mutant orphans.

"You're all making me do this!" he bawled. He fired again, and killed two kids.

* * *

Wave fell from her hiding spot, her energy well spent. Beverley sneered and held her up by her hair.

"**Look at how pathetic you are! Time after time, you find yourself laying at my feet, and still you try to resist! What kind of fool are you? No, scratch that. What kind of _pathetic excuse for a human _are** you?!"

The girl stared daggers into her mistress as she choked, "I'm a cocksucking, soul wrenching, tomboy of a human."

Beverley hissed.

"Not only that, but I'm TREVOR'S pathetic excuse for a human!"

On cue, the man tackled Beverley to the ground, freeing Wave from her grasp. But, in the process, his gun slipped from his hand, and skittered off of the roof.

* * *

There was one last kid. She was an Asian girl who couldn't have been more than twelve.

Michael couldn't shoot her. Franklin had passed out from his bullet wound. But she was relentless. She wanted, more than anything, to please Mistress Beverley. So, she raised her gun.

Someone fired, and the little girl fell over, dead.

Michael blinked. Had he done that? No, the bullet count was still the same. Then, who..?

"Really?" the shooter asked. "After all that, you couldn't shoot a little girl? I honestly expected better of you, Michael."

He could only stare as Giselle walked past him and began to tend to Franklin.

* * *

"**Get off of me!**" She tried to fight him off as he attempted to take one of her guns from under her.

"Gimme-" Her belt snapped, and since he wasn't expecting it, the force from him pulling it sent him reeling head over heels. The belt, along with its weapons, sailed off of the roof. Everyone was weaponless, and the fact stunned them into simply staring. Staring at where the belt had descended back to earth.

"**Fuck this-**" Beverley bucked the balding psycho off of her, then dove for Wave. The teen didn't even have time to move, and the woman pinned her down, breaking her right arm.

There was so much she already had to deal with, that another broken bone was just a minor inconvenience. There was no feeling anymore, only annoying pressure. So, she flipped her mistress over, and smacked her across the face.

"That was for Gee, you deranged c*nt!"

The older woman slapped back before Trevor could peel Wave away.

"**That was for all of your siblings that you so mindlessly killed! Do you think any of them had a chance? To be where you are now? You're taking that from them!**"

"I'm FREEING them from you!"

Beverley kicked Wave in her crotch, then turned to run. Trevor, however, barely managed to catch her foot. Her nose fractured on the concrete.

"You're not going anywhere, bitch." He yanked her back, and with all the strength he could muster, he threw her into the side of one of the airvents. Still, she tried to run, and Trevor ccouldn't catch her this time. She leapt from the roof onto a neighboring building, and continued to run.

"Damnit!" Trevor ran after her, as well as Wave. Before he could stop her, she jumped with him, and landed hard on her broken leg.

"Fuck!" she screamed and tumbled. Trevor hesitated, debating whether to help her or not.

"Go you dumbass! GO!"

He obeyed.

He was only slightly faster than her, so it took some time to catch her. But when he did, no mercy in either of their tactics. They were tired, cut and sore. They wanted to be done, but neither one would let up.

It was Beverley that ended up on top again. She was insistent on beating Trevor to death, and showed it in the way she hit him. Punch after punch, she pounded onto him. She saw her father every time he cried out: flashes of her mother pounding him with a metal bat until his brains were all that remained of his head.

"**I HATE** **YOU!" **she screamed. "**I HATE YOU! YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING! I HATE YOU!**"_  
_

The psychopath could only block her blows with his already bruised knuckles and forearms. In the back of his mind , things were beginning to black out, and a part of him wished it would hurry up. But vocally, he whispered, "He-elp... he-"

There was a gunshot somewhere, and Trevor shut his eyes tight. He thought it was finally him. Beverley didn't make a sound as she rolled off to the side, and died.

Giselle stepped on the corps' head, and fired again just to make sure. Then, she gently nudged Trevor with her foot.

"T, can you hear me? T... T!"

Her voice faded into nothing as Trevor blacked out.

* * *

_"...This is life or death... you, did this..!... Waverley... THAT'S what kept me from going over the edge... Trevor..."_

_The memories came blurred in his subconscious. But they were there. Urging him to live._

_"... I have YOU GUYS!.. HOLD ON!.. I'd never lie to you... I've been through worse..."_

_Urging him to wake up._

_"TREVOR!.. Trevor, I'm so, so sorry!.. Why do you keep me around?.. Trevor... That was YOU?.."_

_She needed him._

_"What is it?.. You thin' I'm fucking done with you?.. Trevor! Trevor!"_

* * *

He woke up to Wave above him, crying and kissing his hand. He could faintly see her outline in the darkness, but he knew her form anywhere. As his hearing slowly returned, he could hear her words.

"I love you... I love... please, please don't leave me! Trevor..." her voice quivered.

Trevor choked. "B-baby girl..."

She shot up, staring at the bloody lips that had spoken. "Trevor?! Trevor!"

"Wave..." His arm wrapped around her back and pulled her down for a hug.

"Trevor! Trevor!" She sobbed with relief into his arms, holding him tighter than she ever had before. He soothed her tears, shushing her and whispering softly.

"I know, baby girl, I'm here. It's ok now. I'm here."

They stayed that way for what seemed to them to be not long enough. It would never be long enough again, especially not for Trevor. Then, Michael cleared his throat, and Trevor glared at him.

"Look, I know you're having an intimate moment, but we should really go before the LSPD get here."

This, Trevor agreed with, He sat up slowly, blood rushing from his head, and saw all his friends were there.

Franklin's legs were working again, thanks to Gee, who was also there. Michael grinned down at his old friend. He wasn't leaving any time soon.

Oh, and then there was his sweet baby girl. He didn't care what anyone else thought. She was his angel. She grinned at him too- a bloody, painful grin- but still a grin. It was beautiful to him. She always would be.

The sun had begun to rise, and Trevor counted the shadows. One, himself. Two, Wavey baby. Three, Michael. Then Franklin and Gee.

That was five. But there was a sixth shadow. Everyone turned when they saw Trevor staring at him. The man awkwardly cleared his throat, and sheathed his pistol.

"I.. see I came too late to help. I apologize about-"

"Who are you?" Michael snapped.

The man sighed. He had seen how they all regarded each other. Especially Jet Black and this "Trevor" person. This was going to be difficult to say, but needed to be. Trevor can't refuse, or fight him. It needed to be done.

"My name is Jason Handlson. I'm with the FIB, and I'm here for Jet Black. I'm sorry to say this, but she needs to be recontained immediately."

_END CHAPTER 22._


	23. Chapter 23: Trevor's girl

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "This Is Not The End," by Laura Gibson. This one I highly recommend, especially if you haven't been using the music. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE. {¡}_

* * *

At first, everyone was too shocked at the sudden turn of events. But Jason Handlson stepped back when Franklin threatened him with his gun. "You mutha- -Who are you really? I oughta bust a cap in yo-"

"No, Frankie."

Trevor stood slowly, then almost tumbled forward from his aching joints. Michael supported him until he could hold himself up.

"Where's your badge?" Trevor asked. Jason showed him. It was authentic, no doubt.

"Alright then. Explain yourself. How did you know Waverley was alive?"

"The old security cameras in the building," he replied. "The visuals no longer function, but the audio works just fine. We'd know her voice anywhere, Trevor. I was never there, but she sounded like a dove on the tapes."

A dove... how ironic. Gee ran her hands through her hair. "But... why does she have to go?"

"She isn't," Trevor growled, and pulled her into his arms. Jason sighed.

"Trevor, I understand your attachment to her. I know how you feel- I have a daughter of my own. A daughter, and three sons. But before you make a hasty move, let me show you this." He held out a file, which seemed to glow in the early dawn. Everyone stared at the document, then at Trevor and Wave. The two limped to Jason, and took the file.

They looked over it briefly, mixed emotions changing again and again. Michael tried to peek at it, but Trevor shoved him away. It was an awkward, silent five minutes that seemed to take an hour. Halfway through, Trevor had to let Wave hold it so his tears wouldn't stain it.

When they were done, they handed it back to Jason.

"What did it say?" Michael asked.

"In a nutshell," Wave choked, "they found out what causes my sickness, with the seizures and all that. It's a deteriorating agent in my DNA. It breaks down my chromosomes, then creates viruses from the remains, which infect nervous cells. This is what causes all my symptoms, but it's... it's lethal... It's not highly contagious, but the fact that it is at all..." she trailed off, the idea too much.

She was going to die, and if she stuck around, so would Trevor, and everyone else.

Jason explained this, then added, "The more she has episodes, the more contagious it will become. The only way to stop the disease from spreading is to... eliminate... the host."

Michael grabbed his hair in disbelief. Gee's hands flew to her mouth, and she stiffled a scream. Franklin, over and over again, mouthed "No, no no..."

Wave was a zombie in her own way. She was dead from the moment she was born.

Trevor ran circles around Wave, trying to work off his angry and horrified energy.

"It can't be true! Tell me it's not!"

"I'm sorry, Trevor-"

"Well, I don't care!" he cried. "If she's going, I'm going too! I won't be without her!"

"Trevor, I'm afraid you can't-"

"I live to love her, you fuck!"

"Trevor, please listen to me for one second, please!" Jason took him by his shoulder, and Trevor calmed, rather than thrashing out. "Trevor, she... this isn't about her, really. It's about the safety of Los Santos. You could come, if it were allowed, but it isn't. And even if you were, she would be quarantined immediately, then shortly after..."

The rest went without saying. Trevor shook his head.

"Please... we- I just got her back! Don't... don't do this..."

"I wish there was something I could do," Jason whispered. "But I'm not like you all. I'm following orders, and... and I..."

"Is there ANYTHING you can do?" Michael asked.

Trevor ignored the rest of their words as he embraced Wave, crying into her neck. She cried too, but silently.

"T... T, I-"

"Please, baby..."

"Trevor, I'm sorry too."

He sniffed. "Wh-what do you have to b-be s-sorry for?"

"... Everything."

"Oh, no-"

"It's true!" she exclaimed. "Trevor, I started this all! The money, the drama, the crime- everything!"

"And I wouldn't have had it any other way! So don't say you're fucking sorry! I'll have to..."

He stopped. They always used to fight like this. It made him cry more. He cradled her like she was a baby, and for a second, she was.

In his mind, he saw a bright, blue bedroom with a crib in a window that jutted out from the wall. There were toys in the corner- dolls and xylophones and blocks. There were chewed toys scattered around the room, and a trail of them lead to the closet. There was the faint giggling of a child in there. He flung open the door, and the girl screamed, "_Boo!_"

He would have pretended to be scared, holding his hand to his heart and shouting, "_Ah, you got me!_"

And the little girl would have laughed. He would pick her up in his arms, tickle her, and hear her squeal.

But the image faded as the sun rose, and before him was reality. A broken teenager with nothing but bitterness and loyalty in her heart.

Trevor's girl.

Jason rested his hand on his shoulder, and cleared his throat again. "Trevor... you may have five minutes to... say your... farewells."

"No!"

"Trevor..."

He looked down at Wave, tears pricking corners of his eyes again. Her look was scolding. Almost like...

"... five minutes... Yeah. Ok." {¡}

* * *

"Remeber the day I met you, kid?"

"Huh... feels so long ago."

"Almost five months now."

"I don't like to keep track of time. It reminds me of how much I have left, and death scares me."

"I can understand that."

"I stole that car, you know?"

"I kinda figured... hehe..."

The teen kicked some rubble mindlessly, and huffed. "You're probably the second scariest person I ever had to deal with, T."

"Second?"

"Beverley."

"Ah."

There was a moment of silence as they walked through the building and over corpses. Neither of them noticed or cared. Wave stopped suddenly, and grabbed Trevor's hand.

"Promise me something, T."

He stared into her blue eyes. They seemed duller than when he'd first noticed them. "What is it?"

"Promise me that you won't change a damn thing. Don't die on me, now. Live like you don't have a choice. But when you can't live anymore, don't ever change, so when you meet me in Hell, I'll recognize you. That way, we can kick Lucifer's ass together, and I won't have to fucking interrogate everyone. Meet me at the obsidian gates, and hold my hand when we walk through. Promise, Trevor."

A single tear ran down her cheek, and he kissed it away. He held her tight.

"Only if you promise to take this with you." He slipped his Impotent Rage figurine into her arms. It had seen a lot of wear over the weeks. There was it's crack line from being split in half by the Lost, but it also had soot stains on it. One of the feet had dried blood on it, and most of the paint on its stomach had chipped off.

How he got it here, Wave didn't know. But he was giving it to her. This really was the end.

She wouldn't look at it, but there was no point in trying to refuse it either. She stepped away, and cradled the statue.

"I won't let go of it the whole time," she promised. "Even when I'm at the end of the tunnel, I'll hold it like... like it's you."

"Not like me," he said. "Like it's Michael, and Frankie and Gee and Tracey and Lester, Amanda, Jimmy... all of them. They're the only ones who have never done you wrong."

"That's why I don't look up to them like you do."

They stared for the longest time, and he kissed her forehead.

Trevor snarled under his breath. "This isn't the end."

"Will it ever be?"

* * *

Outside, there were at least fifty FIB agents making sure that Wave made it into the van and didn't try to run. But all the fight had left her. They had nothing to fear.

It was a solemn procession. Jason and Trevor walked behind her, then Gee, Franklin and Michael. Despite her predicament, she held her head high, expressionless. An armored truck opened its back doors for her, and two doctors sat waiting inside.

She gulped. Would it hurt? No... they weren't that heartless...

"Wait!" Michael ran up to her just before she would have been separated from them. He hugged her, and everyone else joined him. There were no words to be said that would be fitting or right, so they simply cried and huddled.

When the FIB finally broke them up, Trevor started yelling.

"Don't you DARE hurt her! Don't let her last moments be in fucking agony, you hear me!? Don't even-"

The rest was lost to Wave as the doors were shut, and the truck began to move. The doctors began poking her with needles, checking her blood pressure, her hearing, etc. The whole time, all she could feel was the toy in her arms, and all she could see was his yellowed smile and dark brown eyes.

Her daddy.

* * *

Trevor drove back to Gee's in silence. She, after all this time, was still offering him a place to stay.

Good old Giselle Townshend.

But she wasn't planning on staying in Los Santos anymore. She wanted to go somewhere quieter, where people were friendlier. Trevor knew the truth. She couldn't be around Trevor, because he reminded her of Wave.

He understood that. Nothing would ever be the same without her, and they'd practically ruined Gee's life by coming into it. But she wouldn't say whether this was true or not.

She would be gone by the next week. Trevor wished her luck.

A song on the radio started playing, and he turned up the volume to drown out his thoughts.

_Forget, forget about the end..._

_Forget about what may have been..._

_In your hand, the smoking gun..._

_Thin red line across your palm..._

_Forget about the end..._

_This is not the end..._

_I had forgotten..._

He couldn't listen to it anymore. He turned it off, and pulled to the side of the road. He cried for two hours.

Nothing could possibly fix this. Nothing in the world. And, with a start, Trevor realized:

After all this time... he realized... in a way, he had always been what he was searching for. Because if you had feelings for someone... anyone...

You were normal.

_END CHAPTER 23._

* * *

_This is not the end..._

_This is not the end..._

_Forget about... the end..._


	24. Chapter 24: Viral Flaw

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Never Forget," from the Halo 3 OST. *_

* * *

Once again, The Los Santos sunsets meant nothing to Trevor. No matter what color they were, no matter how fierce they were or moving, they would always be black and white forever more.

Everything was colorless. Just like those crummy old movies Michael liked to watch so much. Then, he realized that Mikey never got Wave to dance in his short film. The thought made him sick. Michael could get whatever professional he wanted, but they'd never be Wave.

He clutched at the balcony railing, fighting back tears yet again. It'd been a month, and he still couldn't get over her. Then again, you don't just "get over" a loss like that. Why did everything good that came in his life have to leave!?

Gee had left a week ago, and now Trevor was staying in the apartment. He'd never forget the look of regret on her face as she handed him the keys, and crept out the door. She didn't leave a number or anything. Not that she needed to. Lester could find her in a heartbeat if he wanted to.

If Trevor ever wanted her to come back, then by God, he'd go get her. But she needed time to forget and heal before he even considered.

He stepped back into the bedroom, the January chill becoming too much, and shut the window. He stared sullenly at Mr. Raspberry Jam, and picked it up.

"She would have found you disgusting," he sighed to himself. "What, with your pink thong and jizz stained eye socket. But since you're mine... maybe she could have loved you too. We're... we're not so different, you and I. We've seen a lot of wear and tear... we're sexual in our own ways. We've braced through wind, hail and storm. We made some interesting friends. But the one thing you have and I don't... is someone to love. And someone to love you back."

He sat back. "I had that once. Once. I never will again. At least, not how I want it. If anyone comes into my life again, it won't be Wave. They won't have that same spunk and growl. No one will. Just like you, Mr. Jam. No one will ever be like you. You're unique like that."

He closed his eyes, and pretended the bear in his arms was his baby girl.

"... We're both unique."

* * *

In his dreams, she was always crying for him. He would try to run to her, but he was stuck in place. Trevor, she would cry. The doctors would strap her down in the chair and inject the drugs into her. She would cry for him again, then slip into death moments after. He would begin drowning in his own tears, and somewhere, Beverley would be laughing.

"**YOU FAILED. EVEN IN DEATH, I STILL WIN, PHILLIPS.**"

"You forgot me," Wave would say. Every time he blinked, she would come closer, and when she was a foot from him, she would cry blood.

"You forgot me," she would then say in his mother's voice. "You never wrote to me! I bet you never even found a girl!"

Michael would be screaming at him too. "You fucking idiot! She doesn't deserve this! You stupid fuck!"

Amanda, Franklin and Gee would die one by one from Wave's disease.

Tracey and Jimmy would be dead too, and all of the kids Beverley had manipulated would stare at him. "Murderer! Murderer!"

They would begin suffocating him, and only after Wave came through and stabbed him would he wake up.

The rest of the night, he would spend moaning and crying in the guest bedroom where they had stayed so long ago.

* * *

Amanda ran her arms up and down Michael's chest, eyes closed and thoughtful. Michael did too, but they weren't thinking about the same thing. She could sense this, but didn't say anything. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of the teen who had changed him into a better father.

"Are you alright, Michael?"

"Hmm, Amanda, I just... hmm..."

He was worried about Trevor. After all this time, Amanda still cringed at the sound of his name, but he was more human to her now. And she knew Michael worried about him. He was quieter now, and it was obvious that it was difficult for him to be his old perky self without... _her._

"I need to go for a walk," he said. Amanda merely nodded.

So he walked all the way to the lot where the Vanilla Unicorn once was, and sat on the curb in front of it.

That damn slip of paper was still there, after all this time. That damn paw. He ripped it to shreds and threw it to the wind. No one needed that inspiration again. He ran his hands across the back of his neck, and sighed.

"You too?"

Franklin. Michael sighed again. "Not quite. Just needed a moment to myself, but you're more than welcome to sulk with me."

The younger man sat down next to him. "'Sulk' ain't really the word I'd use. But whatever. You heard from T?"

"He's practically a hermit now. He only comes out of the apartment for food. He's breaking his promise to Wave, and he's too depressed to realize it."

Franklin nodded quietly. "I don't blame him. It's hard to get back out there after that clusterfuck."

"That wasn't a clusterfuck, Frank! That was _life! _I've never seen T more human, thoughtful and selfless before all this happened! She was his light in the dark, just like he said!" He stood and started pacing.

"... And now she's dead, because her own body disagreed with her genetic makeup."

There was silence among them. Michael's phone started to ring.

"That'll be Amanda wondering where I am..." He answered and said, "Listen, Amanda, I know you're afraid to let me go anywhere anymore, but give me five more minutes, ok?"

Franklin rested his head between his knees as Michael said, "... I am... Well, I don't know why, but... Jason, I don't think T would want the details..."

Franklin sat up. Jason? As in Jason Handlson?

"... Interesting? I don't... I don't know what that means... WHAT?!"

His shout startled Franklin, and he stood up quickly.

"Michael, what's he sayin'?!"

"Shut up, Frank- yes?.. uhuh?.. Really?! You're joking! Jesus Christ, I... Of course, yes! Yes!.. Yeah, I'll- yes! Don't do a damn thing until I get there, you hear me!?"

He hung up hastily, then walked to the main road.

"M! What da fuck is happenin'?!"

Michael forced a couple out of their car and hopped in. "Just get in the car, Frank! Hurry! We don't have a lot of time!"

* * *

Jason checked his watch at least a hundred times before they finally got there.

"This way," he ordered. FIB agents flocked in front and behind the trio as they entered the facility.

"What's shakin'?" Franklin asked. "Michael was bein' cryptic as shit."

Jason fought the smile that tempted his lips.

"The doctors found a major flaw in the virus's process of forming and reproducing. Not only has this opened the gateway to curing diseases such as cancer and AIDS, but it has also opened another major door."

He stopped in front of a high security room.

"A door to a second chance at life."

The door slid open, and they all ran in. Even after it shut behind them, their shouts of joy were plain as day.

* * *

His phone was ringing too much. He only answered to Ron and Wade these days. But Michael? He was afraid of what he'd want to talk about.

But his old friend was urgent. So he picked up the phone wearily, and grunted into it.

"T?"

"No, it's a bear. What do you want, Mikey?" *

"Fuck, where have you been! Shit is going down, the FIB, they wanted and so I came down, and they said it was HUGE, and of course I was excited too, but MAN! And Franklin-"

"I'm sorry, Mikey. I don't speak retard."

"Ah, it doesn't matter, you wouldn't care about that bit anyways! Just meet us at that cliff where we offed Weston! Right now, T, or I'll personally see to it your dick shrinks into a vagina!"

The man hung up, and Trevor was left stuttering into an empty line.

* * *

Michael and Franklin were already there, and they ran to Trevor's truck when he pulled up.

"Finally!" Franklin exclaimed. "Trevor, you're gonna fuckin' piss yourself!"

"And if I don't want to?" he muttered.

"Then hold on to your balls," Michael chuckled. "Oh, it's like a late Christmas!" Another car pulled in- a black SUV- and parked at the other end, next to the cliff. Michael and Franklin ran to that too, leaving Trevor bewildered and confused.

Why were they so damn happy?

Some FIB agents came out of the car, and Michael talked feverishly with them. Franklin took some papers from one and ran them to Trevor.

"Sign this, don't even bother reading it," he commanded. Trevor snatched the papers from him and growled.

"You actually thought I was gonna fucking read that?! Hell no..." He scribbled his name and thrust the papers back to Frank, who ran them back to the FIB agents. Yeah, they were with the law, so what. For one, Trevor didn't care anymore, and if Frankie and Mikey were both talking to them, then how bad could it be?

After a few more minutes, the two other criminals ran back behind T, and started giggling like little kids.

"What is your fucking deal!? SHUT UP!" They did their best to comply, but they were simply too excited.

"Ok, I get it. You two are in on the slumber party secret, and you pussies are too stubborn to let me in on it? Is that what I'm getting here?"

"Shut up and watch the van!"

T grunted and whirled around just in time to see one of the back doors open. And, from inside, the Impotent Rage figurine fell in the dirt. Pale hands picked it up again, and two familiar shoes planted themselves on the ground.

Trevor stepped cautiously forward, wondering if he should believe his eyes or not.

A hand snaked around the door, and one of the shoes moved forward. A head of short, black hair and sapphire eyes peered around the door, and then she allowed her whole self to be seen.

Waverley stepped weekly forward, stumbling slightly, but holding up well. She looked thin like a skeleton, but seemed plenty healthy otherwise. All of her broken bones were healed, but she still wheezed occasionally from sore ribs. She grinned at Trevor's astonished stare, and laughed quietly.

He turned to his comrades to affirm the sight before him.

"What are you waiting for?" Michael shoved him. "She is your LEGAL daughter, isn't she?!"

His breath caught in his chest. _Legal!? As in, MINE! _He turned forward, stumbled, and ran. She did too, but much slower.

"Wave!"

"_DADDY!_"

Father and daughter collided in a tangle of hugs and kisses, screams of joy and soft, sweet reassurances. The car that had brought her turned on, and left. They would never hear from the FIB or Jason about Jet Black again.

"Oh, baby girl!" Trevor was gentle with her due to her fragility, but expressed his joy perfectly well.

"I love you, daddy. I love you!" Her pale arms clung to him as if it was her last hope to life.

For Trevor, sweeter words had never been sung. Not by Jesus, or God or any angel. Tears flowed down his thankful lips, which smiled as she shuddered into his neck.

"Never again," he whispered. She nodded wordlessly, understanding perfectly well what he was trying to convey

Michael and Franklin gazed with satisfaction at the sight, then turned to leave. Those two really needed their time alone.

"You really thin' they'll be ok together?" Franklin asked.

Michael laughed. "No matter how often they fight, or hurt each other, or get separated, I'm convinced they'll always find their way back together. They're two magnets, Frank. It's in their nature!"

Trevor inhaled her scent like it was the first time again. She traced his tattoo like it was brand new, and the sun rose and bathed them in its sweet light. It seemed to bless the family of two. As if they needed it anymore. The only blessing they needed was each other.

* * *

The viruses in her system were still contagious, but what they didn't know was that she had had another episode while she was in the FIB. The agents postponed her execution to study the virus more, and realized that it was just as treatable as Pneumonia. Still a difficult disease to treat, but not impossible.

And, while her illness _could _be passed on, it was only unique to her DNA, meaning that someone would have to have identical strands to hers to be effected. This is why only the experiments showed symptoms and degredation from the illness, as they all were exposed to the same treatments as her.

So, rather than killing her, scientists went to work immediately to find a cure, which took only three days. The side effects, however, were major body mass loss, paling of skin and loss of Vitamin D, and weakness in the joints and muscles.

She would never fully recover, but that only meant that she would be as strong as a normal child.

As soon as Jason found this out, he did everything he could to get a hold of Trevor, to tell him that the FIB would allow her to leave and live in the real world as a result of this treatment. But he wouldn't answer, so he tried Michael.

And that's how it came to be, that Trevor's girl became his legal girl. And although the FIB weren't sure about giving her to him, they saw the tapes. They saw how he cared for her, saved her from everything and put her before himself, and were satisfied.

It was the life she needed.

They officially took her off of their records, and shut down the project that made monsters out of the future.

As far as anyone was concerned anymore, it had never happened.

_END CHAPTER 24._

* * *

_Up next: Prologue._


	25. Prologue

_The optional soundtrack for this chapter is "Raise Your Glass," by P!nk. *~*_

_In the last chapter, you may have noticed that I said this chapter would be the "Prologue"._

_That was no typo..._

* * *

"Trevor, when can I take the damn blindfold off?"

"When I say so. Now shush!"

Trevor Phillips guided the still fragile Waverly Phillips from the front seat of the car and onto the grass. He supported her thin arm so she wouldn't stumble. Somewhere, she could hear laughing.

"Trevor..?"

"Alright, you can look now, kid." His grin grew wide as she peeled the fabric off and everyone shouted:

"SURPRISE!" There was wild applause and laughter when she squealed with excitement at the sight before her.

Trevor had bought a house. Not a tiny little thing either. It was a modern house in the Vinewood hills not far from where Franklin lived.

The front yard was simple, with a few bushes and a large oak tree. Trevor and Michael had built a treehouse for her, with glass windows, a door and a pole to slide down rather than taking the ladder. The main house itself was simple and stylish; it was a one floor, 3000 square foot home with plenty of windows in all the right places. It had an almost unnoticeable blue tint to its walls, and there was a plaque next to the front door:

"Trevor and Waverley Phillips. No soliciting. Beware of dog."

"Trevor! Trevor!" His name seemed to be the last thing in her vocabulary. He chuckled and ruffled her hair.

"Happy Birthday, Wavey baby. You're seventeen! That's really something to be psyched about! So get in there and explore!"

She didn't need to be told twice. She stumbled through the grass and bolted through the front door. Everyone followed close behind, gauging her reactions to the various things they had contributed.

"Oh, look at the dining table! Is that a sixty inch flatscreen?! Well, this is obviously Trevor's room..."

The life that she had been lacking during her recovery over the past two months seemed to burst from a hidden source deep inside her. She practically danced over the floorboards as if she was on a stage and showing her best moves. She seemed especially taken with the gaming room, which Franklin had suggested due to her love of the media. Trevor sensed a crash course in video games in the very near future.

Michael playfully nudged Trevor and teased, "You sure you guys will be ok in this nice big house all alone?"

Trevor scoffed. "Please, Mikey. I've been through worse. Like your house for example."

Michael shoved him, T punched him, and they both laughed.

Franklin forced himself between them and grinned. "T, this is a brand spankin' new pad, man! Try to keep it clean for at least a month, dog!"

"Awe, you don't trust me? Frankie, I'm genuinely hurt!"

"I DO trust you, T! I trust you to trash this place!"

They all laughed again, and Trevor held up his left hand.

"Listen, I, Trevor Phillips, do hereby solemnly swear to keep this 'pad' in top notch condition."

Michael poked him in his chest. "You're supposed to swear on your right, hand, man!"

"Sorry, my right hand's full! I swore on that with the life of my baby girl!"

"I don't think there will come a day when I don't cringe to hear you say that," Lester cut in. "It just doesn't seem like you to call someone your baby girl. ESPECIALLY if only a half a year ago you hated their guts."

"Hey, I hated Michael with all my heart and soul, Lesty-loo. Look where we are now! I can hardly live without him either!"

"That's a crock of shit!" the millionaire exclaimed. They all laughed again, and Wave ran to her father.

"Trevor, let's go see my room! Come on, come ON!"

"Alright, geeze, calm down, squirt!" He turned to Lester and said, "Get the big gift ready."

* * *

There was a sort of reverent and awed silence as she opened the double doors to her brightly sunlit room. It may not have been the room of her dreams, but it was Trevor's, and still she loved it.

The walls were a faint violet, almost pink. In the back right corner was a vaulted ceiling and window, and this is where her twin sized bed was. In the very back of the room, a window jutted out so that it hung over the backyard pool, and it had cushions so she could sit in it. To the right and left of this window were bookshelves filled to the brim with books (picked out by Tracey, so chances were she'd never read them).

Her closet, which was in front of her bed, was filled with dresses and jeans and clothes of all sorts (also picked out by Tracey, but her parents had helped on this one). She fingered the various fabrics lovingly, inhaling their clean scent, and imagining what it would be like when she could smell Trevor in them too.

The front left corner of the room had a simple, yet powerful computer with a desk with plenty of room to read and write whatever she pleased. To the left of that, a door that lead to her own bathroom. There was also a vanity where she could "admire herself", as Denise had said, and she had stocked it with heavy and light powders and lipsticks.

When Wave had finished soaking it all in, she limped to the window and peered down at Los Santos. That was going to look _gorgeous _at night, but if it became too much, she had dark curtains she would cover it with. Who knew Trevor had such nice taste?

She couldn't possibly turn around with the tears threatening to fall. She whimpered, and said, "It's... it's beautiful."

There was a collection of sympathetic _awes _ and Trevor scooped her into his arms.

"You deserve this more than anything in the world, Wave. I swear to fucking God, if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to see to it that you're happy for the rest of your life."

He pecked her forehead and sighed. "I can never say enough how much I love you. I'll do anything for you, even if you end up being a spoiled brat. Wait, no, not quite that far-"

"Let's just settle with 'I'll be the best dad I can be'," Wave suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

Lester could be heard yelling down the hall at something, and Trevor sneered.

"Really?" he snorted. "Can't even handle his own dick, I bet..."

A Great Dane that could be hardly older than a year bounded into the room and stopped short when he saw Wave. and Trevor. Then he smiled his dog-like smile, and barked.

"A _dog, Trevor!? Oh my GOD! IT'S ADORABLE!" _The teen peeled herself from his arms and hugged the massive beast around its neck. The dog stood patiently, enjoying the contact from this frail human, but knowing that she was strong deep down. The way her muscles worked when she leaned back and smiled at him showed years of hard work and loyalty. He knew he would like this human.

"He's all yours, Wavey. You gotta pick a name for him too, so start-"

"Santa! His name is Santa! In honor of the one man who is why I'm still here today." She grinned at the middle aged Michael De Santa, who had turned a bright shade of red as people applauded the name. Santa barked happily, and began to kiss Trevor's hand.

"Look, Mikey!" Trevor laughed. "He's a kiss ass just like you!"

There was roaring laughter and merriment about that, and all throughout the rest of the night, until Trevor, Wave, and Santa were left alone to celebrate what would most likely be a happy future for all of them.

* * *

Wave gulped down her painkillers, puckering at the taste before she washed it down with water. Santa stared at her curiously, wondering how she could swallow something without chewing.

"Can't wait to stop taking this shit," she muttered.

Trevor came around the corner and said, "Ready to hit the hay, baby?"

"Yeah, yeah." She clambered into her bed and Trevor tucked her in. It still baffled her as to how he could be so gentle. " Trevor?"

"Hm?"

"Do you _really _like this house? Honestly."

"Believe it or not, I do. It's not overly fancy like Michael's place, but it's not a piece of shit either. There's, uh, something in this house we both can like, right?" He kissed her on her head.

"Yeah..."

Trevor patted Santa on the head, then turned to leave.

"Trevor?"

"Yeah, Wavey?"

"... I... don't want to sleep alone tonight."

He paused at the doors. When he looked at her face, he saw her fear. After everything they had been through, she was afraid. Afraid she would lose him if she closed her eyes.

Trevor felt the same.

"... Alright then. Come on. You can sleep with me. But ONLY tonight, you hear?"

"Yeah, daddy."

His heart melted at the name. _Daddy. _Was that truly what he was, after all this time?

Yes... somewhere deep down, he felt it. Daddy.

Trevor Phillips was a daddy.

* * *

The girl with shoulder length black hair ran next to the clumsy Great Dane, and the man smiled. He traced their footprints in the sand with his own feet, shuddering at the cool sand between his toes. Up ahead, the girl shuddered too.

Yes. There was definitely a strong connection between them. *~*

Trevor Phillips gave an unsatisfactory huff as he watched the sun set from the Los Santos shoreline. _It's nice, I guess, _he thought. It was better than the view from his rich friend's balcony up in the Vinewood hills. There, he couldn't see the sun sparkle on the water, and it didn't quite warm him the same way either. He couldn't see the sun there either; it was always hiding behind the skyscrapers and the hills.

But then again, Trevor didn't pay any mind to such things. He was a man of action, violence, no thought. But these days, all he wanted was his little girl to be happy. And if she wasn't happy, he'd make her happy. No matter the cost.

"Trevor, come on you old bastard!" Wave called. "What are you doing, sulking?! Don't be a Michael now!"

"I'm not Michael, and I never will be, mark my words!"

Wave giggled. "Of course you won't. You know why?"

"Hm?"

"_Michael will never be MY dad._"

Trevor's pride swelled.

"You bet your ASS he won't! Now get over here!" He ran after her, and she laughed and ran as well. Santa barked when Trevor tackled her to the ground and tickled her. Their screams of joy were the only sounds on the beach, save for the crashing of waves, bearing their stories into the past and future, ceasely forever onwards.

This was Trevor. Trevor was not a normal man. He had not lived normal life, and he LOVED it. He knew it was different, and refused to deny it, because deep down, he didn't want a damn thing to change.

Trevor was happy that he wasn't normal. Because what fun would that be?

* * *

_THE END..?_

_Credits:_

_All Grand Theft Auto aspects and characters are copyright Rockstar North._

_All songs used copyright to their original owners._

_Waverley is a character of my creation, and YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO USE HER. No joke. Just tell me what for, and send me a link to her fiction._

_As for Jason Handlson, he is also mine, I guess. But I don't give a damn about him. Do what you want with him, sneeze on his asscheeks, pucker his lips. Whatever, lol :P Same for Beverley, but I don't know what much you can do with a dead body._

_Giselle Townshend belongs to the wonderful Uniquely Amazing, who was one of the two people who tirelessly praised and drove me onward, and the main reason Wave found a happy ending (or beginning?) in the arms of a psychopath._

_Special Thanks to Uniquely Amazing, TheFriendlyStranger and my brother, who all tirelessly listened/read my crap. And also, my friends at school, who had to be mortified by my violent sketches of Wave and Trevor fighting Beverley and each other._

* * *

_This chapter is called the Prologue because Trevor and Wave's adventures are just beginning. We've only scratched the surface of it all!_

_Hell, I'd continue this 'til the day of my death if I had that many ideas! But I don't... and that's where YOU come in._

_I'll be taking commissions on Wave and Trevor's adventures together if I think they could very well tie in to it all, so go wild! Speak your mind on the matter! Want them to get trapped in the mountains? You got it! Sleepover with Tracey? By all means!_

_... but I won't get to it right away._

_T and W need a break to enjoy each other's company without some psycho goddess coming in and throwing them into another crisis._

_So, here are some ideas for other fanfictions:_

_Minecraft: Don't be fooled by this one. It will be in the first person, a girl named Soul. She will remember nothing from the time of the "Metal Men" and is simply doing all she can to survive. But is she being watched? Is a romance, and is in a sort of journal format._

_Slenderman: Kind of the same thing, but not in the first person. Main chatacter is Sophia Broen, an undercover human for the SSB (Study of Supernatural Beings). She's been assigned to the same woods from Slender: the Arrival, because of the events from that game. I won't get into to much detail, but I really like this one._

_Transformers__: Unfortunately for you die hard fans, I'm only familiar with Bayverse transformers. This takes place after the second movie, and during and after the third. Optimus has been friends with a paralyzed human named Sarah Goodrich. After his death, she is mortified and when given a chance to help save him, she hijacks a jet and is fatally injured at the battle in Egypt. But not all hope is lost; there has been a top secret program underwaythat could save her life, and now that Optimus had the Matrix, it is possible._

_Tintin__: Takes place after the events of the 2011 film. Now that Haddock's fortune has been restored, Tintin is off on his next big adventure: college! Everyone seems nice enough, and he is admitted to one of the leading fraternities. The headmaster is proud to have him as a student, and the ladies dig him. But there is a lone girl who never involves herself, never asserts herself, is always picked on, and has an odd obsession with her music box. Titin never imagined the consequences and mystery that would unfold on the fateful day when he tried to talk to her._

_So, there are those, but all suggestions are welcome! If I feel like I know enough about something, I'll dive into it. Also, as we speak, I'm collaborating on a Pokemon fan fiction with some friends of mine at school. My POV is going to be the one in yellow, and it will be found on Google Docs. I'm not the one in charge, so it can only be found there. Go check it out once it's up!_

* * *

Trevor: Goodnight, baby girl.

Wave: Goodnight, Trevor. I love you.

Trevor: I love you more. And I always will. See what happens if you argue with me!

Wave: No thanks.

Trevor: *chuckles*


End file.
